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tfbe Copp, Clark Company, 3Limite&, Toronto. 

School and College Text Books. 

Freytag's Die Joumalisten. — Introduction and Notes by 

F. Lange, PhD. Cloth .45 

Irving's Sketch Book.— Annotated by F. H. Sykes, M.A.. .60 

Row's Practical Language Training.— Containing Sugges- 
tions to Teachers. A syllabus of work for Public Schools 
and Suggestive Lesson IS otes .25 

Henderson and Fletcher's First Latin Book.— Author- 
ized by Department of Education $1.00 

Robertson's Canadian History. (Quebec Edition). .25 

Selections from Wordsworth— Poetical Literature, 1893, 
with Life of Wordsworth. Notes, &c. , by M. F. Libby, 
B.A 90 

De Peyrebrune's, Les Freres Oolombe and Feuillet, La 

T&e- — With Notes and Vocabulary by F. H. Sykes, 

M.A., and E. J. Mclntyre, B.A 1.25 

Rosenkranz Philosophy of Education. — International 

Education Series 1.25 

Welsh's English Composition • • .60 

White's Elements of Pedagogy 100 

Feuillet Le Roman d'un Jeune Homme Pauvre.— 

Notes by Owen and Paget .70 

Labiche, La Poudre aux Yeux.— Notes by L. G. Burnblum .25 
Horace Odes, IV. — Elementary Classics. Notes and Vocabu- 
lary by T. E. Page, M.A .35 

Shakespeare's Macbeth. — Clarendon Press. Edited by 

Clark and Wright. 50 

Fitch's Lectures on Teaching 100 

Colton's Practical Zoology -90 

Tait's Analysis of English History. — Based on Green's 

Short History of the English People 1.00 

Radestock's Habit and its Importance in Education — 

With introduction by G. S. Hall, PhD 75 

Baldwin's Psychology Applied to the Art of Teach- 
ing. — International Education Series 1.25 

Gill's Systems of Education • • • 1-25 

Compayr^'s History of Pedagogy.— With introduction 

and Notes by W. H. Payne, A.M 1.50 

Sully's Teachers' Handbook of Psychology L25 

Hall & Knight's Elementary Algebra for Schools .... 1.00 

Laurie's Language and Linguistic Method — • 100 

Collins' (J. Churtin) Study of English Literature ..... i.S5 

B 



APPLIED PSYCHOLOGY. 

AN INTRODUCTION 

TO THE 

PRINCIPLES AND PRACTICE 
OF EDUCATION. 



J. A. McLELLAN, MA., LL.D. 
ir 

Director of Normal Schools, for Ontario. 

Author of "Mental Arithmetic" "Elements of Algebra" etc. 

Joint Author of "Algebraic Analysis." 



Learn to Do by Knowing and to Know by Doing. 



%oxsm\o : 
THE COPP, CLARK COMPANY, Limited, 



,M*£3 



Entered according to Act of the Parliament of Canada, in the year one thousand 
eight hundred and eighty-nine, by Thb Copp, Clark Company, (Limitbd), Toronto, 
Ontario, in the office of the Minister of Agriculture. 



Exchange 
Western Ont. Univ. Library 
Apr- 15- S938 



PREFACE 



This volume has been prepared at the request of many 
teachers and Inspectors that I should publish some of my lec- 
tures on the Psychology, Principles and Practice of Education, 
which have been given from time to time before Teachers' Asso- 
ciations. It was urged that though there are many excellent 
books on general Psychology, there is still room for one which 
more directly meets the needs of the teacher. Some of these 
works are too abstract and deal with philosophical questions that 
very remotely concern the science of education ; others are 
too superficial, i.e., in their attempts to make psychology easy, 
they have made it worthless for the educator as well as for the 
student of philosophy. Most writers on psychology declare that 
a knowledge of that subject is indispensable in the training of 
the teacher ; but it must be confessed that the ordinary teacher, 
even after reading psychologies that claim to be specially pre- 
pared for teachers, fails to see the direct bearing of the sub- 
ject on the work of instruction. 

What is wanted, say the teachers who have the worth of 
psychology so often dinned in their ears, is a more practical 
work, that is, one that will show explicitly the relation of psy- 
chology to education, and give the teacher a clearer and more 
thorough knowledge of the principles which underlie true 
methods of instruction. It would be too much to expect that 



VI PREFACE. 

this volume will fully meet these requirements ; but it is hoped 
that teachers will find in it some justification of the opinion now 
generally held by educationists, and tersely expressed by Herbert 
Spencer, that " with complete knowledge of the subject which 
a teacher has to teach, a co-essential thing is a knowledge of 
psychology ; and especially of that part of psychology which 
deals with the evolution of the faculties." 

Attention may be called to certain features of the book : 
i. The general mode of treatment in the part on mental 
science is that of Professor Dewey, whose work on Psychology 
has been so well received by students of philosophy. In pre- 
paring an analysis of lectures on Educational Psychology, I 
consulted the lamented Professor Young, who, while favouring 
me with his own ideas on the subject, specially recommended 
Dewey's " Psychology." On the basis of that work, accordingly, 
lectures were prepared and delivered before Teachers' Associa- 
tions ; perhaps it is not too much to say that the deep interest 
these lectures have awakened among teachers is a fair test of 
the practical worth of the method. 

2. The book is not a series of baby-talks on mind. The 
psychology which requires no thinking is worthless for both 
teacher and student. If " education is the hardest and most 
difficult problem ever proposed to man," its science cannot be 
mastered without thought. But while the book has not ignored 
scientific method — and so may not be useless as an introduction 
to more advanced work — the subject, it is hoped, has been so 
plainly illustrated that it will prove interesting and intelligible 
to the general reader and certainly to any student of common 
industry and ability. 



PREFACE. Vll 

3. As intimated, an attempt has been made to make the book 
of practical value to teachers. Besides the deduction of educa- 
tional principles from each important topic as discussed, there 
is a summary chapter which gives a clear and concise view of the 
Basis, Aims and Methods of Instruction, as grounded on psy- 
chology. 

4. It is believed that the chapters on the Method of Interro- 
gation will show still more clearly the relation of psychology to 
educational method, and prove helpful to the teacher who 
vrishes to acquire skill in the art of questioning, the ars artium 
of his calling. 

5. The chapter on Kindergarten Work and Self-Instruction 
in Public Schools, abounds, it is thought, in hints and sugges- 
tions which will be found of real value in the practical work of 
the school-room. The plans and work recommended have stood 
the test of experience ; if faithfully carried out they will lighten 
the labour of both teachers and pupils, and greatly increase 
the efficiency of the public schools. 

6. The outline methods on some important branches — 
based on explicit psychological principles — will, perhaps, prove 
more serviceable to the teacher than a whole volume of empir- 
ical " ways and devices." 

7. The full analytical table of contents will help the student 
to such a mastery of educational principles as established in 
this volume that he will be fairly able to test independently any 
of the innumerable methods which are urged upon his attention 
by distinguished inventors. 

To Professor Dewey, whose book on Psychology, — already 
mentioned — should be read by every student of the subject, 



Vlll PREFACE. 

I must express my obligations for most valuable assistance in 

the preparation of this work. 

For the practical part of the chapter on Kindergarten work 
and on geography, my thanks are due to Mr. J. Suddaby, 
who is regarded as one of our most progressive teachers, and 
whose work — which I have often inspected — has placed the 
Berlin Model School in the front rank of training schools. 

For nearly forty years the Professional training of teachers 
has been — perhaps from the force of circumstances — largely em- 
pirical and imitative ; the essence of this method of training 
may be expressed by the single formula, " Observe and Imitate." 
This has made teaching a mere " trade," and, as Mr. Fitch says, 
" teaching is the sorriest of all trades though the noblest of all 
professions." But it has been, and is, plainly the policy of the 
Hon. G. W. Ross to " change all that," to insist on a knowledge 
of the laws, principles and results of mental evolution as a 
necessary part of a teacher's preparation, to make professional 
training something worthy of the name by placing it on a 
rational, i.e., a psychological basis, and, in a word, to substitute 
for a " sorry trade " the noblest of professions. I sincerely 
hope that this book will help, in some degree, to give effect to 
that wise and far-seeing policy. 

Toronto, March, 1889. 



CONTENTS. 



CHAPTER I. 

Psychology and its Relations to the Teacher. 
I.— The Educational Importance of Psychology. 

1. It is the Science of Mind to be Educated I 

(Formal Definition and Discussion of Methods) 2 

2. It Reveals the Processes upon which Educational Methods 

must be Based 2 

a. Definition of Method. 

b. Source of Value of Methods. 

c. True and False Methods. 

II.— The Educational Limitations of Psychology. 

1. As a Science it is Generic, while Teaching Deals with Indi- 

viduals 4 

2. It is Theoretic, while Teaching is Practical e 

III.— The Treatment of Psychology Adopted 5 

A. Discussion of Raw Material or Basis. 

B. Of Processes. 

C. Of Products. 



CHAPTER II. 
The Bases of Psychical Life (A). 

These Bases are Three — Sensation, Interest and Impulse 6 

I.— Sensation. 

1. Definition — Contains Three Factors. 6 

2. As an element in Knowledge it is : 

a. Immediate „ j 

v b. Presentative •••••• • 7 



CONTENTS. 

Characteristics : 

Quality, Intensity, Tone, Extensity. Definitions of each. . . 8 
Conditions : 

a. Physical Condition — Motion 9 

(*'.) Dependence of Intensity upon Amplitude of Motion 

Illustrated 9 

(ii.) Dependence of Quality upon Velocity Illustrated by 

Sound and Color , 9 

(Hi.) Dependence of Quality upon Kinds of Vibration, 

Illustrated by Timbre of Sound and Shades of Color 10 
i. Physiological Condition Involves Nerve Organ, Conduct- 
ing Nerve and Brain 10 

(i.) The kind of Nerve Organ Receiving Stimulus is 
Basis of Division of Sensations into General and 
Specific 11 

(it.) General Sensations have Tone predominating ; are 
vague ; report condition of organism ; are first to 
appear. 

(Hi.) Specific Sensations ha' e Q lality predominating; 
are definite ; report objects outside organism ; ap- 
pear later in life 1 1 

e. Psychical Condition is Consciousness. 

(i) Consciousness Cannot be Derived from Motion.... 12 

(it) Motion may be Stimulus to Consciousness 12 

The Senses of Greatest Educational Importance : 

a. Touch , 13 

(i.) Other Senses Differentiated from it. 

(ii.) Used to Test Reports of other Senses. 

(Hi.) Most Closely Connected with Muscular Activity. 

b. Hearing, and Sight the Senses of Highest Development. 13-14 

(i.) They Make the Finest Discriminations. 
(ii.) Sight is the Space Sense. 
(Hi.) Hearing is the Time Sense. 

c. Different Sensory Types, Motor, Visual, and Auditory. . 14 
Educational Principles : 15 

a. Necessity of Basing Knowledge of External Objects in 

Sensation. 

b. Since Sensation is only a Basis, Psychical Processes must 

Act upon it 

c. Instruction Should be Adapted to Sensory Conditions. 



CONTENTS. XI 

II.— Interest. 

1. Meaning of Interest > • 16 

2. Distinctions of Interest from Information 17 

a. It is Emotional. 

b. Subjective. 

c. Individual. 

3. Importance of Interest 17 

4. Educational Principle 18 

Education must be Based on Interest 

III.— Impulse. 

1. Definition of Impulse 19 

2. Importance of Impulse 19 

3. Impulse and Instinct 20 

4. Impulses Classified 

a. Impulses of Sensation 20 

b. Impulses of Perception 21 

c. Imitative Impulses 21 

d. Impulses to Expression 21 

Gesture Language — Speech 

5. Educational Principles. 

a. Training the Senses means Training Impulses 22 

b. Instruction should Seize Instincts at the Height of their 

Development 22 

c. Instruction should make use of the various Classes of Im- 

pulses 23 — 24 



CHAPTER III. 

The Psychical Processes (B). 

Introduction. 

I.- -Classification of Contents of our Minds 24 

Simultaneous Groups. 
Successive Uncontrolled Trains. 
Successive Controlled Trains. 



Xli CONTENTS. 

II.— Classification of Processes Corresponding to these 
Contents > 25 

Non-Voluntary Attention. 
Association. 
Voluntary Attention. 

The Processes. 
I. Non-Voluntary Attention. 

1. Definition 26 

2. Conditions of Non- Voluntary Attention : 

a. Natural Interest 26 

(1.) Quantity 27 

(it.) Tone 27 

b. Acquired Interest 27 

(*'.) Familiarity 27 

(«.) Novelty 28 

{Hi.) Familiarity and Novelty in Connection 28 

3. Effects of Non- Voluntary Attention : 

a. Negative Effect — Exclusion from Consciousness 29 

b. Positive Effects : 

{i.) Bringing Differences to Consciousness 30 

(«. ) Uniting Elements in One Presentation 30 

(1) May Unite any Number of Elements 30 

(2) May Unite Elements Unconnected in themselves 31 

4. Educational Principles: 

a. Must be some Activity of Attention 33 

b. Teacher must not only Present Material, but must Induce 

this Activity 33 

c. It must be Induced Indirectly by Arousing Interest 34 

d. Interest Accompanies all Mental Activity 34 

e. Also the Exercise of Play-Impulse 35 

/. Also Dependent upon Relations of Novelty and Familiarity 35 

g> Suggestions as to Cultivating Non- Voluntary Attention.. 36 

IT- Association. 

1. Definition 37 

2. Conditions — Original Union ; Integration and Redintegration. 38 

3. Varieties of Association : 

a. Contiguity — External 38 

(*'.) Spatial. 
{it.) Temporal. 



CONTENTS. X1U 

& Similarity — Internal. 39 

Includes Contrast. 4° 

4. Results : — 

a. Mental Order. 4° 

b. Mental Freedom 41 

Similarity Superior in these respects to Coatiguity. 41 

e. Formation of Habits : 

(*'.) Definition of Habit 41 

(«.) Active and Passive Habits. . , , 42 

[Hi.) Functions of Habit : 

(1) Give Self-Control in some Directions 43 

(2) Frees Intelligence and Will from Supervision of 

Details 43 

5. Educational Principles 44 

Based on stages of Intellectual Growth, of which there are Three 

a. Is " Mechanical " Stage : 

(/.) Association of Activities rather than of Ideas 44 

(it.) Based on Repetition 45 

[Hi.) Has Discipline (which is not Mechanical for its 

object) 45 

Meaning of Discipline 46 

[iv.) Relation of Knowing to Doing, in Mechanical 

Stage , 46 

b. Is Stage of Forming Connections 

(*.) May be between Sense Impressions 47 

(«.) Or between Ideas 47 

[Hi.) Sensuous Associations Should be Subordinate.... 48 
[iv.) Hence, Principle of Teaching only what has Mean- 
ing 49 

[v. ) Importance of Habit in Education 49 

e. Is Stage of Culture 49 

Based especially on Association by Similarity 50 

jtTT . Voluntary Attention. 

Introduction 50 — 52 

1. Relation to Non- Voluntary Attention 50 

2. Relation to Association 51 

3. Early Forms 52 

4 Later and More Complex Forms 52 

Activities Involved in Attention 53 



XIV CONTENTS. 

1. Adjusting Activity : 

(i.) Mind more Interested in one Direction than in 

Others 53 

(ii.) Hence, Stretches out to what will Satisfy this 

Interest . . . 54 

(Hi. ) And fixes Certain Groups of Ideas upon Presenta- 
tion 54 

(iv.) This is Dependent upon Past Experience. 55 

2. Selecting Activity : 

(t.) Selects what Meets its Interests 55 

(it) Basis of Selection is According to Kind of Interest .. 56 

(tit.) Variable and Permanent Interests 56 

(iv.) Law of Permanent Interest 56 

3. Relating Activity : 

(i.) Mind Seizes Relations not Presented 57 

(ii.) Especially Relations of Unity and Difference 58 

(it*.) This is Act of Comparison 58 

(iv. ) Meaning of Unification 58 

(v. ) Meaning of Discrimination 59 

(vi. ) Goal of Attention 59 

III.— Educational Principles. 

1. Need of Activity to Prevent Mind Wandering 60 

2. Need of Permanence or Continuity of Interest 60 

3. Need of Store of Ideas in Mind akin to Object of Attention. . . 61 

4. Need of Arousing this Store of Ideas 61 

5. Failures in real Attention when these Conditions are not met. . 62 

6. Need that the Mind move along Related Points 63 

When the Mind Notices or discovers Relations, it is paying 

Attention 63 

7. Suggestions as to Ways of gaining Attention 64 

IV.— Apperception and Retention. 

The Psychical Processes affect Mind and affect Material Known .... 65 

Illustration of Apperception 66 

Illustration of Retention 66 

Mutual Relations 67 

I. Retention : 

a. Nature 67 

b. Forms Mental Power 68 

c. Forms Dynamical Associations or Tendencies 68 



CONTENTS. XV 

3. Apperception: 

a. Nature 69 

b. Basis of Growth of Knowledge 69 

3. Educational Principles : 

a. End of Education is Mental Development — Retention .... 70 

b. But this occurs through Development of Knowledge — Ap- 

perception 70 

C. Learning Depends upon Proper Presentation of Material 

and upon Proper Preparation of Mind 71 

d. Apperception and Retention form Mental Function, Habit 

and Character. 71 



CHAPTER IV. 

Forms of Intellectual Development. 

(First Division of C or Mental Products.) 

§ 1. — Principles of Intellectual Development. 

I.— Development of Intelligence is from the Presentative to 

the Kepresentative 74 

II.— And from the Sensuous to the Ideal 74 

1. Idealizing Activity , 75 

2. Educational Principles : 

a. Necessity of Interpretation 76 

b. Necessity of Assimilation 76 

U— And from the Vague and Particular to the Definite 

and Universal .. 77 

1. Meaning of Particular and General 78 

2. The Definite and Universal Constituted by Relations 79 

3. Educational Principles : 

a. Necessity of Defining Knowledge 80 

(t.) Distinction of Definite Object and Definite Know- 
ledge 80 

(ti.) Definite Knowledge must come after Indefinite ; 

Details after Outlines 81 

(sii.) Mind's Analytic Power Defines Knowledge. 82 



XVI CONTENTS. 

b. Necessity of Connecting Knowledge 83 

Mind's Synthetic Power Connects 83 

c. Necessity of both Universal and Particular Factor. Re- 

lated Facts 83 

d. Necessity of Treating Intellectual Faculties as Successive 

Developments of Same Principle 84 

These Successive Developments are : 
(».) Perception which is : 

(1) Both Presentative and Representative 85 

(2) Sensuous and Ideal and , 85 

(3) Related 85 

(ii.) Memory which is : 

(1) More Representative than Peception 86 

(2) More Ideal and , . . 86 

(3) Expresses more Relations 86 

{jut. ) Imagination which is : 

(1) Based upon Memory 87 

(2) But is more Representative and Ideal 88 

(3) And Involves Wider Relations 88 

(iv.) Thinking which is: 

(1) Most Representative or Symbolic of all Stages. . 89 

(2) Most Ideal and 89 

(3) Expresses Most Relations 90 

Hence, the Educational Principle is to Develop 

all by Same Methods 90 

§ 2. — Stages of Intellectual Development — Training of 
Perception. 

I.— Considered in Itself 91 

1. Should be Accurate and Full 91 

2. Should be Independent 92 

3. Should Form Habit of Observation 92 

II.— Considered in Relation to other Stages. 

I. Must be made Basis of Representative Knowledge .......... 93 

a. Hence requires large Store of Perceptions prior to In- 

struction in wholly Representative Ideas 94 

b. That all Representative Ideas be Illustrated by Percep- 

tions , , 94 



CONTENTS. XV11 

e. Otherwise What is Learned is : 

(i) Meaningless * 94 

(ii) Uninteresting 94 

(Hi) Productive of Mind Wandering 95 

§ 3. — Stages of Intellectual Dovelopment, continued- 
Training of the Memory. Contains two Factors : 

I. -Learning 95 

General Principle : Train Memory by the Methods in which Studies 

are Appropriated 95 

This Principle may be applied : 

1. To Memorizing bare Separate Facts 96 

2. To Memorizing Consecutive Statements of Facts 96 

a. Evils of Memorizing by Sheer Force of Repetition are : 

(i) It Employs only Sensuous Association 97 

(ii.) It Leaves the Mind Passive 97 

(in.) It Burdens the Mind 97 

(iv.) It Leads to Mind Wandering 97 

b. Proper Methods of Memorizing rely : 

(i.) Upon Association of Ideas 98 

(ii.) Upon Analysis and Synthesis 98 

3. To Memorizing Relations of Complex Ideas 99 

1 

II. Recollecting— Depends upon 

1. Repetition. 100 

Reviews. 

2. Attention to Connected Ideas 100 

§ 4. — Stages of Intellectual Development, continued — 
Training of Imagination. 

I.— Necessity of Indirect Training 

1. Because of its Free Character loi 

2. Because of its Individual Character 102 

3. Because of its Unconscious Growth 102 

II.— This Indirect Training is Brought Abottt— 

1. Through Cultivation of Expression of Imagination 102 

2. Through Cultivation of the Feelings that Stimulate Imagination: 

a. Due partly to Influence of Teacher 103 

b. Partly to Development of Religious Emotions 103 



xvin Contents. 

3. Through Providing Material to be Worked Upon : 

a. Natural Scenes IO4 

b. Studies like Geography and History 104 

c. Study of Literature 104 

§ 5 — Stages of Intellectual Development— continued — 
Training of Thought. 

I.— Indirect Training Brought About by Training other 
Lower Stages 
Illustrated by : 

1. Generalization involved in Perception 105 

2. Relations involved in all Knowledge. 106 

3. The Grouping of Facts brought about by Retention 107 

II— Direct Training. 

1. Given by Language 107 

a. Words are Products of Thought 108 

b. Structure of Sentences a Product of Thought 108 

c. Connected Discourse a Product of Thought 109 

2. Given by Science. 109 

a. Physical .. 109 

b. Mathematical 109 



CHAPTER V. 

The Forms of Emotional Development, 

(Second Division of C or Mental Products.) 
I.— Conditions of Interest. 

Feeling Accompanies Activity HO 

1. Spontaneity of Activity 1 10 

2. Strength of Activity Ill 

3. Change of Activity Ill 

Monotony and Variety. 

4. Harmony of Activities Iia 

II.— Principles of Emotional Growth. 

In General the same as Intellectual. II? 



CONTENTS. Xix 

1. Widening of Feeling : 

a. Through Transference 113 

b. Through Unconscious Sympathy 113 

c. Through Conscious Sympathy 114 

2. Deepening of Feeling : 

a. Through Repetition 114 

b. Through Cooperation 1 14 

III.— The Forms, or Stages, of Emotional Growth. 

1. Intellectual uq 

a. Leading to the Acquiring of Knowledge : 

(».) Wonder llt> 

(ii. ) Curiosity 1 16 

/. Resulting from Acquisition of Knowledge, Feeling of 

Freedom, or of Self-Command 116 

2. Aesthetic _ uy 

a. Factors of Beautiful Object : 

(i) Adaptation ny 

(ii.) Economy XI g 

(Hi. ) Harmony \ r jg 

(iv. ) Freedom x jg 

b. Factors of Aesthetic Feeling ; 

Universality and Ideality no 

3. Personal II9 

a. Social. 

(i) Regard for Self IIQ 

(«») Regard for Others I20 

Antipathy I20 

Sympathy I2Q 

(1) Origin of Sympathy I20 

(2) Development of Sympathy 121 

b. Moral. 

(*) Contents: 

Rightness, Obligation, Approbation 121 

[ii) Origin I22 

(Hi) Result is the Formation of Moral Groups or Com- 
munities l22 

The School : 

(1) Is Continuation of Family I2 3 

(2) Is Preparation for State 123 



XX CONTENTS. 

(4t>.) Training: 

(i) Should be Concrete . 123 

(2) Punishment should aim at Development of Moral 

Feelings 124 

(3) Should be Based on Personal Affections 124 

e. Religious : 

(i.) Dependence 124 

(»i.) Peace 124 

(Hi.) Faith 125 



CHAPTER VI. 

Forms of Volitional Development. 

(Third Division of C or Psychical Products.) 

Introduction. — Analysis of Volitional Act 125 — 127 

Volitional Act is Intelligent 125 

Volitional Act is Controlled 126 

The Reason is that it has an End 126 

Definition — Volition-Impulses Controlled by Conception of an End 127 

I.— Factors of Volitional Development. 

I. Formation of Idea of End 127 

a. Beginning of Idea 127 

b. Completion of Idea 128 

c. Subjection of Impulses to Idea, or Training of Impulses. . 129 

(».) Impulses Trained through Development of Intellect 129 

(ii. ) Training of Impulses reacts upon Intellect 129 

(Hi.) Knowing and Doing are, therefore, Correlative.... 129 
(iv.) When Trained Correlatively, Education is Render- 
ed Practical. . . 130 

(v.) Education must rest upon Natural Impulses 131 

(vi. ) And consists in Disciplining them 132 

(vii.) Partly by External Arrangements 133 

(viii.) Partly by Internal Arrangements 

(ix.) And has its end in Self-Control or Freedom 133 



CONTENTS. Xxi 

2. Formation of Desire 134 

(Desire is Emotional, corresponding to Intellectual Idea.) 

a. Origin of Desires | 34 

b. Object of Desires., l^e 

e. Training of Desires : 

(i.) Desires Trained through Development of Feeling. . 135 

(it.) By Satisfying or Thwarting them j -,(, 

{Hi. ) Awakening Idea of Possibilities I ^6 

(iv.) Through Cultivation of Imagination 137 

Imagination Widens and Strengthens . . 137 

3. Realization of Desired Idea j ,g 

a. Simple Case— End Suggests its Means by Association.. . . 138 

b. Complex Cases — Conflict of various Desired Ends 138 

Conflict Settled by ; 

(i.) Deliberation j,g 

(it.) Effort .......'. 139 

(Hi.) Choice I4<) 

4. Realization of Desired Ends forms Character or Self- Control.. 140 

a. Character is the Volitional Aspect of Retention 140 

b. Choice is the Volitional Aspect of Apperception 140 

c. Hence Character and Choice are Reciprocal I40 

d. Training of Character : 

(i.) Through Habitual Action , I4I 

(«.) Through Influence of Educator upon Habits 142 

(Hi. ) Through Self- Reliance 142 

(iv.) Through Recognition of Law l4 , 

(v.) Through Conception of Ideal Self I4 4 

IL -Stages of Volitional Development or of Self-Control. . 144 

l. Physical : 

a. Relation to Moral . _ 

b. Its Process : 

(*.) Differentiation of Impulses ,.5 

(«.) Interconnection of Impulses I4 g 

c. Its Results g 

(».) Idea of Act more Extended and Definite 146 

(ii.) Abilities and Tendencies are Created I4 6 

(i«.) Amount of Required Stimulus is Lessened 147 



XXU CONTENTS. 

2. Prudential Control : 

a. Definition , 147 

i. Results. 

(».) Action is more Deliberate 148 

(«.) More Unified 148 

(Hi.) More Determined and Persevering 148 

(iv.) More Intense or Energetic 149 

3. Moral Control : 

a. Definition 149 

b. Based on Physical and Prudential Acts 150 

c. Which become Moral when Subordinated to Motives of 

Right 150 

f».) Hence, Moral Action is Constituted by Motive.... 151 

(ii.) Hence, Involves Responsibility 151 

(Hi.) Hence, Forms Character, as Physical and Pruden- 
tial Acts do not 152 

(iv.) Hence, in reacting, Develops Sense of Obligation . . 152 

Growth of this Sense . 152 

d. Moral Action is Secured: 

(t. ) By Habitual Action 153 

(ii.) By Use of Lower Motives 153 

(i£i. ) By Appeal to Personal Affections 154 

e. Results of Moral Control: 

(i. ) Generic Choice 154 

(ii. ) Automatic Decision 154 

(Hi.) Regulation of Desires 154 

(iv.) Effective Execution 155 



CHAPTER VII. 

Mind and Body. 

I. -Importance of Body for Soul 15s 

1. Seen in Sense-Organs 156 

2. In Muscular System 156 

3. In Brain '57 



CONTENTS. XX1U 

IL— Structure of Nervous System in Man ... 15S 

Analysis of Nervous Changes Involved in a Perception - 158 

m. Elementary Properties of Nerve Structures 158 

1. Irritablity or Excitability 158 

2. Conductibility 158 

3. Summation , 159 

4. Inhibition 159 

5. Plasticity 159 

Facilitation, Accommodation. 

IV.— Psychological Equivalents. 

1. Of Excitability is Sensation, etc 160 

2. Of Inhibition is Control, Intellectual and Volitional 160 

3. Of Plasticity is Habit &c 160 

V.— Localization of Function. 

Principles Are 161 

1. Original Indifference. 

2. Localization Resulting from Use 161 

3. Mechanical Functions the best Localized 161 

4. Sensory and Motor Organs have Vague Centres 161 

5. Intellectual Powers have no Definite Centres 162 

6. Ideas are not Localized at all 162 

VI.— Educational Principles. 

1. Necessity of Care of Body in all Education 1 62 

2. Physical Basis of Organization of Faculty 163 

3. No Separate Training of Faculties 163 

4. Importance of Establishing Mental Relations 163 



CHAPTER VIII. 

Summary of Principles. 
I.— Bases of Instruction. 

1. Activity of Pupil * 163 

2. Interest of Pupil 164 

3. Idea in Pupil's Mind..,, , * 164 



XXIV CONTENTS. 

XI.— Ends of Instruction. 

1. That Instruction be Significant 164 

a. As to each Subject 164 

b. As to Statements within each Subject , 164 

2. That Instruction be Definite 165 

3. That Instruction be Practical 165 

This is secured : 

a. When right Habits are Formed 166 

b. When New Faculties are Organized 166 

e. When Fundamental Psychical Powers and Processes are 

Developed 166 

III.— Methods of Instruction 167 

1. Teach one Thing at a Time 167 

a. What Makes a Proper Method, with Illustration 167 

b. This Gives the Analytic Method , 168 

e. Advantages of Analytic Method : 

(i.) Economizes Mental Energy 168 

(ii.) Defines Mental Products 169 

(in.) Excludes Irrelevant Material 169 

(iv.) Prepares the Way for Memory 169 

(v.) Forms the Analytic Habit 169 

2. Teach in a Connected Manner, or Synthetically 170 

This Demands of the Teacher : 

a. Unity of Aim 170 

b. System 170 

c. Graded Instruction 170 

Upon the Side of the Pupil it Demands : 

a. That Knowledge Begin with Presentation 1 70 

In Training Perception all Mental Powers should be 
Trained : 

(i.) Illustrations 171 

(ii.) Two Factors in Perception 171 

(1) Recognition 172 

(2) Discovery 1 72 



CONTENTS. XXV 

i. That Groups or Centres of Ideas be Formed 172 

(*.) Economy of this Method 172 

(ii.) Ways of Securing this Grouping 173 

€. That these Groups be Exercised in all Acquisition of 

Knowledge 173 

This Principle Requires : 

(i.) Frequent Reviews 174 

(ii.) Mental Preparation . 174 

(Hi.) Constant Exercise of Past Knowledge 174 

IV.— Relation of Knowledge, Feeling and Will 177 

1. Mind as Organic Unity, Hence 177 

a. The Dependence of Knowledge 178 

b. The Dependence of Knowledge 179 

c. The Dependence of Will 179 

2. Education must, therefore, affect the whole Personality , 180 

V.— Criticism of Maxims. 

1 . Maxim of different Faculties each requiring its own Kind of 

Culture 180 

2. Maxim of First Forming, then Furnishing Faculty 181 

3. Learning to Do by Doing 182 

4. Proceeding from the Known to the Unknown 182 

5. Proceeding form Concrete to Abstract 183 

6. The Order of Nature and the Order of the Subject 183 

Preceeding from the whole to the Part 184 

7. Teaching what is understood 184 

8. Teaching Things, not Words 184 

a. Words Introduce Representative Factor 185 

b. Words Make Knowledge General and Definite 185 

c. Words Concentrate Knowledge 185 

9. Let Education follow Nature 186 



XXVI CONTENTS. 



CHAPTER IX. 

The Method of Interrogation, Art of Questioning. 

Introduction 187-189 

Method of Exposition and of Questioning 187 

Importance of Art of Questioning 187 

Necessity of Training in 188 

Relation of Theory and Practice 188 

What Experience Really is. 

Division of Subject 189 

A. Objects of Questioning 190 

L— Testing Retention, or Presentation of Material.... 109 

1. First Object to discover Pupil's Knowledge . . , 190 

a. This is Missed if 

(1.) Too easy Stimulus (or Questioning) is presented : 
Questioning the Past 190 

1. Such Questions fail to stimulate 191 

2. And hence are Monotonous 192 

Illustrated by Drill. 

(it.) Too difficult Stimulus (or Questioning) is pre- 
sented : Questioning the Future 192 

Such Questions Fail to Aid Assimilation .... 193 

b. This is Secured if Teacher Finds out wkat Pupil knows 

and haw he knows it ... . 194 

Such Questioning Connects the old and the new . . 194 
2. Second Object is to Fix Knowledge , 195 

a. Importance of Repetition 195 

b. Law is that Activity (not Impression) Should be Re- 

peated 195 

(/. ) Forming A nalytic and Synthetic Habit 196 

{it.) Forming Definite Perceptions : Habits of Rea- 
soning 196 

c. Illustrations. 

(*. ) Getting Knowledge of Number* 196 

(«.) Getting Knowledge of Relation of Numbers . . 197 
(Hi. ) Getting Knowledge of Use of Axioms, Rules, etc 197 



CONTENTS. XXV11 

d. Repetition of Act of Relating Facts Gives Power to 

Think 198 

Illustration 199 

e. Proper and Improper Repetition : 

Use and Abuse of Drill ; 199 

(*".) Improper Repetition Dwells too much on 

"Concrete" 200 

(ii.) Drilling aside from the Real Point 201 

(#»V.) Drilling on Unimportant Points : 

Sense of Proportion 201 

3. Third Object to Extend Knowledge 203 

Distinction of Telling and Questioning 203 

a. Extends by Making Vague Definite 204 

Questioning Should make Pupil realize for Him- 
self Imperfection of his knowledge 204 

(*. ) Illustrations from Geometry 205 

(it.) Illustrations from Grammar .206-207 

(tit.) Illustrations from Arithmetic . . 208 

b. Extends by Imparting New Knowledge 209 

Questioning Should Lead Pupil to Institute new Re- 



lations 



209 



(*. ) Illustration from Pronouncing Words 209 

(it.) From Naming Numbers 210 

(tit. ) From Elementary Arithmetic 211 

(iv.) From Solution of Problems 212 

(v.) From Algebraic Formulae 213-214 

4. Fourth Object is to Cultivate Power of Expression 215 

[AT.B. — This applies to II. or Training Apperception as well as to I.) 

a. Relation of Knowledge and Language 215 

(*'.) Words Without Ideas are Empty. 
Ideas Without Words are Chaotic 

(ii.) Words Define and Make Permanent 216 

(Hi.) Thought is Not Complete Till Objectified in 

Language 217 

b. Hence Thought Lessons Must be Language Lessons .217 
Each Reacts upon the Other 218 

c. Method of Training Expression and Thereby Thought 219 

(**.) Question Pupil to Clear Thought 220 

(ii.) Then to Clear Oral Statement of the Thought . 220 
(in.) Then to Clear Written Statement 221 



XXVU1 CONTENTS. 

d. Illustration of Rule : No Thought Without Expression. 

(*.) Elementary Illustrations 221 

(zY.) Illustrations from Study of Classics 222 



CHAPTER X. 

The Method of Interrogation — Continued. 

A. Objects Of Questioning — Continued. 

II.— Training of Apperception. 
Objects are : 

1. To Excite Interest 224 

This is secured by 

a. Clear Presentation , 225 

Clearness in the Teacher 225 

b. Developing Sense of Power 226 

Time requisite for Development 226 

Sense of Power requires Self-Education 227 

e. Sympathy in Teacher 228 

(i) This Secures Confidence .... 292 

(ii) Brings Mind of Teacher close to Mind of Child 229 

(tit) It arouses the Dull 230 

d. Personality of Teacher 231 

(*) Personality involves Union of Sympathy and 

Enthusiasm 232 

(ii) Method of Personality 232 

Evil of substituting Mechanical Method for Per- 
sonal Power 233 

2. To arouse Attention 233 

Questions challenge Attention 234 

(i) They awaken Old Knowledge, adjust it upon 

New 234-235 

(ii) Illustration 235 

3. To direct Attention 236 

(?) Questions keep the Mind in Orderly Movement 236 
(ii) Thus develop Power of Analysis and Synthesis 236 
(in) Illustrations 237 



CONTENTS. 



XXIX 



4. To Cultivate Habit of Self-Questioning - • • *# 

(*) Goal of Attention 2 3 8 

(it) Gives Independence of Mind 2 39 

B Qualifications of the Questioner. 

I. Acquired Qualifications 24 ° 

1. Thorough Knowledge • 

(*) Requires Knowledge of Kindred Subjects and 

Advanced Branches • 2 4° 

lit) Improtant in Primary Teaching 241 

(Hi) As well as in higher work 241 

2. Preparation of Lessons 4 

3. Analytic Power ^ 3 

4. Knowledge of Mind *43 

5. Practice in Questioning 2 44 

II. Natural Endowments *+* 

Force of Personality ^ 

Its Moral and Religious Spirit 245 

0. Matter and Form of Questions 2 45 

I. As to Matter, Questions should he 

1. Definite 24 

Illustrations. 

2. Connected— In Logical Sequence 2 47 

3. Adapted to Capacity *4 

4. And should exhibit Sense of Proportion 249 

II. As to Form, Questions should he 

1. Put in Good Language 2 49 

2. Varied • * 49 

3. Given in Questioner's Own Words 249 

4. Should not be Elliptical 

5. Should follow Serial by Topical Order 25° 

HI. Mode of Questioning 

Various Suggestions 2 S° 

D. Matter and Form of Answers. 

Various Suggestions 251-252 

Class— Answering. 
Answers wholly Wrong. 
Partly Right, Partly Wrong. 
Writing Answers, etc. 



XXX CONTENTS. 



CHAPTER XL 

Kindergarten Work and Self-Instruction in 
Public Schools. 

I. Introduction — 

Grounds for introducing Kindergarten Work 252 

1. Physical Education 253 

2. Moral Education 254 

3. Intellectual Education 255 

4. Kindergarten Instruction is Rational 256 

5. The Beginning of Wisdom 256 

II. Blocks and Building 257 

1. Object Lessons with Blocks 258 

2. Illustration 259 

3. Value of this 260 

4. Constructive Exercises with Blocks 261-62 

5. Self- Instruction with Blocks 263-64 

6. Forms of Beauty with Blocks 264-67 

7. Value of Kindergarten Exercises 267-68 

HE. The Tablets. 

1. Description of 268-69 

2. Object Lessons with 269-71 

3. Constructive Exercises with 271-72 

4. Self-Instruction with Tablets. 

IV. The Sticks. 

1. Constructive Exercises -*r&&. 275 

2. Kindergarten Drawing 275 

V Exercises for Hand-Training. 

1. Slat Interlacing 278-79 

2. Paper Folding 280-83 

3. Mat Weaving 283-84 

4. Kindergarten Work and " Half-Time " System 284-86 

VL Besults Manifested 286 



CONTENTS. XXXI 

VIL Self-Instruction in Common Work. 

1. Principle of Reproduction 286 

2. Prepare Self-Instruction Work 287 

3. Writing and Drawing 287 

4. Reading 287-88 

5. Arithmetic 288 



CHAPTER XII. 

Outline Methods in Special Subjects. 

I. Geography 289-96 

n. Arithmetic 296-304 

HI. Primary Reading 305-1 1 

IV. Training Language Power 3*2-15 

V. Grammar v 315-17 



PRINCIPLES AND PRACTICE 

OF 

EDUCATION. 



CHAPTER I. 

PSYCHOLOGY AND ITS RELATION TO THE TEACHER. 

On hearing the oft-repeated assertion of the high value of a 
knowledge of psychology as a preparation for teaching, the 
teacher may reasonably ask : — What is psychology, and what 
relation does it bear to the work of the teacher? Is it essential 
or at least important, that he should have a knowledge of the 
subject ? If it is important what makes it so, and how shall 
the teacher avail himself of it in order to become a better 
educator? To a brief consideration of these questions, this 
chapter will be devoted. 

Psychology Defined. — What is psychology? For the 
teacher's purpose, the simplest answer that can be given to this 
question is that it is the science of the minds of those whom he 
has to teach — the term mind being used to include the entire 
psychical (Greek, psyche, soul) nature, the will, and the emo- 
tions, as well as the intellect. Since the teacher has to do, 
on the whole, with the body, the physical nature of the pupil, 
only on account of its close connection with moral and 
intellectual habits, it is plain that this definition is almost 
equivalent to saying that for the teacher psychology is the 
science of the pupil himself; it is a systematic and orderly 
account of the mind that the educator must reach, of the nature of 
this mind and of the laws, principles and results of its activity. 



2 PSYCHOLOGY. 

Formal Definition and Terms. — A more technical definition of 
psychology is that it is the science of the facts or phenomena of self. By 
self is meant that the mind exists for itself: that it is conscious of its own 
processes and states. Other terms used are Ego implying that the self 
recognizes itself as I in distinction from things and from other persons. Soul 
as generally used, suggests the close relation between the mind and its organ, 
the body. Subject is used to imply that the mind is a unity binding together 
all feelings, ideas, and purposes, and distinguishes it from the object which 
lies over against self. The term spirit suggests the higher moral and reli- 
gious activities of mind. 

Methods Of Psychology. — There are various methods used for invest- 
igating and explaining psychical fads. A person may set himself to study 
his own mind ; may watch the origin and progress of his own thoughts ; 
may analyze them as they come and go and note the ties that seem to con- 
nect them. In other words, he may observe himself as he would observe 
any phenomena. This is the method of introspection — of looking within. 
Many of our ideas come to us primarily through the connection of soul with 
body in the form of sensations, and many of our states, as our desires, express 
themselves through the body. We may, therefore, experiment with our 
sense organs as a means of changing our ideas. This is the experimental 
method. We may also study the minds of others. We may observe (i) 
children with a view to ascertaining the original forms and gradual 
development of what we know introspectively only as finished products. 
Or we may study (2) animals, with a view to learning about instincts, and 
the lower stages of psychical life ; or (3) the minds of those defective or 
disordered, like the blind, the deaf, or the insane, and thus discover the 
effect of withdrawal or alteration of any factor. In these three cases, we 
are following the comparative method. Or, finally, instead of studying mind 
directly, we may study its products and then reason back to those 
activities of mind necessary to produce such results. Language, the growth 
of science and of art, political and religious institutions, we may consider 
and study as manifestations, embodiments of intelligence, and hence infer 
some laws of intelligence itself. This is the objective method. 

The Basis of Educational Method. — More particu- 
larly, psychology is an account of the various ways in which the 
mind works. Some of these ways are what constitute the pro- 
cess of learning, and it is of prime importance that the teacher 
should know them. In all his educational work it is to these 
processes that he must appeal, and upon them that he must build. 



ITS RELATION TO THE TEACHER. 3 

A method of teaching which does not rest upon these processes 
will be arbitrary, and either barren of good results or positively 
harmful. Such a method, having no connection with any activity 
native to the learner's mind, either hangs " in the air " utterly 
without practical significance, or tends to thwart some activity 
instead of aiding its development. A child's psychical processes 
will doubtless go on whether he is taught well or ill, or indeed 
whether he is taught at all or not ; but left to themselves — to 
the education of " nature " — or directed by wrong methods, 
they are almost sure to stop short of their highest capacity, to 
operate feebly or only intermittently, and to be exercised in 
a wasteful and inefficient way : thus the true end of education — 
the harmonious and equable evolution of the human powers — is 
never reached. Methods find their place in stimulating 
the instinctive activities into ever-renewed movement, in 
keeping them directed in the right line, and progressing 
upon that line in the simplest, most economical and most vital 
way. They must rest, therefore, upon knowledge of the 
activities of the mind and of the laws governing them. This 
knowledge psychology aims to give. 

Value of Method. — The position thus given to method 
does not detract from its high value — a value so high, 
that the whole question of education on its practical side, 
is a question of method. It only shows what is the reason for 
this high value. It shows that methods have such an import- 
ant place because they are tributary to the natural processes 
of the mind. Methods are brought into disrepute not by 
giving them this subsidiary function, but by making them 
mere mechanical devices which the teacher is required to 
master in order to give instruction in certain subjects. A method 
regarded as a mere contrivance for imparting knowledge is at 
best formal and lifeless, and at worst, degenerates into a mere 
stereotyped trick, the repetition of which is deadening to the 



4 PSYCHOLOGY. 

pupil, and degrading to the teacher. But exactly the same 
outward procedure when not the result of blind obedience to an 
assumed educational rule, but followed as clearly auxiliary to 
some activity on the part of the pupil, places the work of the 
teacher on a rational basis, gives it vitality and effectiveness, 
and makes the teacher an artist rather than a tradesman. It 
should ever be remembered that the servile imitation of what in 
the hands of another may be a right method, or the mechanical 
adherence to empirical rules, is not educational method in any 
true sense of the term. True educational methods are ways of 
approach to the learner's mind, and ways of directing its 
activities according to well understood laws. They are not the 
blind observance of formulae, pedagogical, or otherwise ; but 
are skillful adaptations to the mental processes of the concrete 
subject who is learning, the actual individual self. Upon this 
fact and this alone is based the claim of the great educational 
importance of psychology. 

Limitations of Psychology.— But it is important to 
know what psychology cannot do as well as what it can do. 
The following limitations are accordingly to be noticed. In the 
first place teaching deals with individuals, while psychology, 
like every science, is generic. That is to say, as a science, it 
deals with classes ; it gives the laws of mind in general, but 
overlooks the specifically different circumstances under which 
these laws operate in different individuals. Botany, for example, 
while giving the laws of plant-life in general, does not deal with 
the individual roses, geraniums, etc., about which the chief 
interest of the florist centres. Similarly psychology says and can 
say nothing about this and that boy and girl ; yet it is just with 
this and that boy and girl that the teacher has continually to do. 

In the second place, psychology as a science is theoretical, 
while teaching is practical. That is to say psychology can give 
the teacher knowledge of the laws of the workings of the 



ITS RELATION TO THE TEACHER. 

mind; but it cannot give him the tact and skill and insight 
necessary to apply these laws with the best possible results in 
his actual experiences. Just as one may know the laws of the 
physiology and pathology of the human body and yet be a poor 
physician through lack of the practical qualities, the sympathy, 
the insight, the energy necessary to apply this knowledge, so 
one who lacks sympathy may be able to state all that is known 
of psychology and yet be a poor teacher ; for science is a weak 
substitute for sympathy. On the other hand, great sympathy 
with pupils will often give the teacher a power of insight into 
their mental processes, and thus enable him to adjust his teach- 
ing methods with good effect, although he has but slight 
theoretical knowledge ; in this case, sympathy is, in part, a 
substitute for philosophy. 

But these limitations, after all, only amount to saying that 
personal skill based partly on inborn qualities, and partly on 
acquired experience, counts for much in teaching as in every- 
thing else. The best teacher will be he who unites high personal 
qualities with knowledge of the theory of his subject which has 
been perfected by experience ; for " studies perfect nature 
and are perfected by experience." 

Mode of Treatment. — We may begin our study of the 
theory which underlies teaching by comparison of a finished 
manufactured article to completely developed mental states. 
Just as a piece of broadcloth was not always cloth, but was made 
from the raw material by certain mechanical processes, so an 
act of thought or will was at first psychical raw material which 
had to undergo certain psychical processes in order to become a 
finished product. The teacher will naturally desire to know 
something about each of these, something about the capacities 
which are the beginnings, the raw material — something about 
the processes which act upon the raw material, and something 
about the finished products. Accordingly we shall take up J, 



6 SENSATION. 

The Bases of Psychical Life. II. The Processes of Psychi- 
cal Life, and III. The three forms of psychical development, 
viz., the Intellectual, the Emotional, and the Volitional, 
with something about the various classes of facts coming under 
each head 

Note. — Regarding Psychology and its Methods consult Dewey's Psy- 
chology, Chapter I. 



CHAPTER II. 

THE BASES OF PSYCHICAL LIFE. 

As just said, the development of mind takes its origin from 
certain capacities which are at once the stimulus to further 
progress and the raw material out of which the more complex 
forms are made. These bases are, upon the intellectual side, 
Sensations ; upon the emotional, Interests ; upon the voli- 
tional, Impulses. We begin with a study of the facts con- 
cerning 

§1. SENSATION. 

Sensation may be denned as any Mental State which 
arises from a bodily stimulus, and upon the basis of which we 
get knowledge of the world around us. A few examples will 
make this clear. We smell of an orange, and get the 
sensation of odor ; we put a part of it in our mouth, and get the 
sensation of taste ; we look at it, and get the sensation of color ; 
we explore its surface with our hands, and get the sensation of 
contact, of pressure, and of temperature ; we drop it, and get 
the sensation of sound. If we apply these examples to our de- 
finition we see (i) That smell, taste, su ' t, touch and hearing 
are all mental states, for the mind's content is changed as soon 



THE BASES OF PSYCHICAL LIFE. 7 

as each occurs; (2) That the means which occasion these mental 
changes are bodily organs, the eye, ear, hand, etc., together with 
the nerves connecting these organs with the brain ; and (3) 
That through each of these states we learn something about our 
surroundings. If, now, we regard the orange as an illustration 
of the whole world about us, we see how the first step in know- 
ledge of this world is taken. 

Sensations are Immediate and Presentative.— By 
immediate is meant that the last antecedent of the mental state 
is a physical change and not an intervening psychical process. 
Sensations of yellow, of the peculiar taste and smell of the 
orange follow as soon as the eye or the proper organ is directed 
by the mind upon this fruit. The mind does not have to re- 
member, or imagine or think in order to have these feelings. 
But, if the eye falls upon the figures, 7, 9, 8, 6, 5, 4, the intel- 
lect must go through a series of processes and come to a con- 
clusion before discovering that the sum is 39. Such knowledge 
is accordingly called mediate, that is, depending upon intermedi- 
ate processes, and is opposed to sensation. We may illustrate 
again by the difference between simply hearing a sound and 
comprehending the meaning of the words uttered. The sound 
is heard as soon as the stimulus reaches the brain ; the mean- 
ing of the words is not apprehended until certain processes of 
interpretation, to be studied hereafter, are brought to bear. 

The term presentative has somewhat the same significance 
as immediate. A sensation is called presentative because it is 
formed wholly of original elements, without any reproduced 
factors entering in. Thus the pain that I feel as I cut my 
finger is immediately presented to me, and is a sensation, while 
the memory of this pain, or the pain that comes from the hear- 
ing of the death of a friend, is representative, being based upon 
the recalling of past experiences. The sensation, in a word, 
is presentative because occasioned by some object actually 



8 SENSATION. 

affecting the organ of sense ; while memories, abstract ideas, 
conceptions like those of justice, of education, of arithmetic, 
not being produced by some direct affection of the sense-organ, 
are representative in character. 

Sensation, to sum up, is primary and original, not secondary 
and derived, and has no antecedent excepting the physical 
stimulus of the sense-organ. Sensation is, therefore, the simple 
and elementary material out of which knowledge of the world 
about us is built up, and hence our account of how the mind 
gains its knowledge must begin with a study of sensations. 

Characteristics of Sensations. — From these general 
considerations we must turn to a study of the particular character- 
istics of sensation. We may continue to illustrate by the sensa- 
tions occasioned by the orange — say the visual sensation of 
color. This sensation, like every other, possesses quality, 
extensity, intensity, and tone. By quality is meant the peculiar 
nature or content of the sensation — in this case, that it is a 
color and not a sound or taste, and furthermore that it is yellow 
in color, and not green nor red. Extensity refers to the extent 
of impression produced, to its voluminousness. A small portion 
of orange skin does not make so extensive an impression 
as the whole orange, nor this as a whole basket of oranges. 
Intensity is not to be confounded with extensity. The latter, 
as just said, means the largeness of the impression. But any 
sensation of yellow, whatever its extent, has a certain degree of 
intensity according to the amount of light which produces 
it. This intensity would be nothing in pitch darkness, and 
at its brightest, of course, in noonday light, while at twilight 
it would be feeble, etc Similarly the intensity of a sound may 
vary from the slightest whisper to the loudest roar of artillery. 
Finally, as to tone, the yellow may be more or less painful, be- 
cause the color is crude and glaring, or it may be pleasant 
because refined and pure in quality. The tone thus refers to 



/ 



THE BASES OF PSYCHICAL LIFE. %, 

the emotional effect which the sensation excites, whether agree- 
able or disagreeable. 

The Conditions of Sensation.— Each of these charac- 
teristics depends partly upon (i) physical and partly upon (2) 
physiological conditions. These should now be studied. 

(1) The Physical Factor. — The ultimate physical occa- 
sion of sensation is always some form of motion. Of taste 
and smell the sensory stimulus is molecular motions not well 
understood ; of touch, the stimulus is motion in the form of 
vibration of masses and visible particles ; of hearing, it is motion 
of air or some other substance having weight, while of sight, 
the stimulus is vibrations of an imponderable medium called 
ether. The intensity, and, to a certain degree, the quality 
of sensations, correspond to properties of the motions occasion- 
ing them. Imagine a ball hung by a string to be struck a blow ; 
the harder the blow the wider will be the swing of the ball. 
That is, the amplitude of a vibration depends upon the impetus 
of the moving particle. Now if we imagine the swinging ball 
to come in contact with a drum head, it is evident that the 
harder the ball is moving (or the greater its amplitude) the 
greater will be the shock of the contact. From this illustration 
it may be gathered that the intensity of a sensation depends 
upon the strength of the motion which stimulates it, and, if 
this motion is in the form of a vibration, upon the amplitude 
of the vibration. 

Sound and Color. — In the cases of sound and color, at all 
events, the quality of the sensation corresponds to the velocity 
and form of the vibration exciting them. By velocity is meant 
the number of swings that occur in a given time, whatever the 
width or amplitude of the swing. The lowest musical tones are 
produced by a rate of from twelve to twenty vibrations per 
second j the highest tone, by vibrations at the rate of about forty 
thousand per second. Between these two extremes come the 



IO SENSATION. 

various octaves of pitch. There is also a scale of color in which 
red corresponds to the slowest rate, which is, however, almost 
infinitely more rapid than those of sound, being four hundred and 
fifty-one billions per second; violet corresponds to the most 
rapid, seven hundred and eighty five billions per second, while 
the five other spectral colors occupy the interval. 

Mixed Sounds and Colors- — So far we have been 
speaking only of pure or unmixed tones and colors. But if 
the vibrations are complex in form, composed, not of a single 
regular series of waves, but by the superimposition of a 
number of series, we have mixed or composite sounds and 
colors. In the sphere of hearing there is produced what is 
called timbre or tone-color. This is that quality in sound whi£h 
distinguishes an organ tone from a piano or violin tone of 
exactly the same pitch and intensity, or from a human voice, 
or one voice from another. In the sphere of colors, this union 
of various systems of vibrations produces the mixed or impure 
colors which we call shades; for example, in red, we have 
scarlet, crimson, rose, pink, etc. The proper intermixture of 
the vibrations corresponding to the seven spectral colors forms 
white. This is, perhaps, all that need be said about the rela- 
tion of the external stimulus to the sensation. 

(2) The Physiological Factor. — We turn now to the 

physiological side of the sensation. Here there are three points 
to be taken into account, first, the nerve organ that receives 
the physical stimulus, second, the nerve conveying the stimulus 
from the organ to the brain, and third, the change in the 
brain itself. The organs that are exposed to stimulation are 
classified as special and general sensory organs. The special 
organs are those whose function is to receive some specific 
stimulus to which it is especially adapted, as the eye, for example, 
is fitted to receive and react upon the waves of ether. The general 
organs are those the main business of which is not the reception 



THE BASES OF PSYCHICAL LIFE. II 

of sensory stimuli at all, but the regulation of some organic pro- 
cess, like breathing, digestion, or circulation. The nerves 
found in the lungs, stomach, etc., are not there for the express 
purpose of giving sensations, but secondarily and incidentally 
they do give rise to sensations which tell us how the respiratory 
or the digestive process is going on. 

Differences between General and Special Sensa- 
tions. — This difference in organs leads to a corresponding 
division of sensations into general or organic, and specific. The 
main distinctions are the following : 

i. In the specific sensations, as touch, hearing and vision, 
quality is the prominent constituent ; in the organic, as diges- 
tion, etc., tone. Taste and smell, although specific senses, have 
so much emotional accompaniment that they are intermediate. 

2. From the above difference, it results that the specific 
sensations are clear and their contents easily distinguishable, 
while the organic are almost indescribable in their vagueness. 
So too, while the specific sensations are sharply defined in the 
order of both co-existence and sequence, the organic shade into 
one another by indistinct blendings. 

3. The organic sensations report to us the condition of our 
own bodily systems, their health, comfort or the reverse, and 
serve along with taste and smell to direct our bodily processes 
properly, while the specific mainly report to us objects outside 
of our own body, and subserve the theoretical end of know- 
ledge. On this account, the two classes are sometimes termed, 
the subjective and the objective. 

4. One of the most important differences, from the teacher's 
standpoint, is that in the order of their development. At birth 
and in early infancy, sensations in which the factor of tone pre- 
vails are the predominating, but they gradually give way in 
importance to sensations in which quality is more important. 
The infant is at first taken up almost wholly with organic 



12 SENSATION. - 

sensations of hunger and thirst, comfort, or fatigue and pain, 
etc. Even taste and smell do not seem to convey much idea 
about the quality of the substance » tasted,. # .bjit only of its 
emotional effect. But in time sounds and colors are observed, 
at first the brighter and more intense.. For a long time after 
colors are noticed, the child has no distinct idea of the differ- 
ence between various color qualities — between green and red, 
yellow and blue, etc. The development begins, in other words, 
with the emotional and the vague, and advances towards the 
definite and the intellectual. 

The senses in which quality predominates, particularly sight, 
hearing and touch, since they are the senses which give the 
most information about the surrounding world, are those of 
most importance to the teacher. 

The Sensation as a Psychical State- — But, although the intensity 

and quality of sensation depend largely upon external and physiological 
circumstances , the sensation in itself is psychical ; it is a state of con- 
sciousness. The changes in the nervous system are all physical ; they are 
only changes of matter and of motion. They are objective and have no con- 
scious existence for themselves. But the sensation is not material nor 
spatial. It has no right nor left, no quick or slow motion. It simply 
exists as a psychical occurrence. Materialism attempts to regard the sens- 
ation as only nerve force changed into another form, just as heat may be 
changed into light, this into electricity and so on. But heat, light and 
electricity may all be considered as forms of motion, and hence as con- 
vertible into one another ; while sensation is not a form of motion. Even 
the materialist is obliged to confess that the change from one to the other is 
unaccountable, mysterious, unthinkable. 

Nervous Change is not Cause, but Stimulus. We cannot re- 
gard the change in the brain therefore, as sufficient explanation of a sensa- 
tion. There is required something which may co-operate with the motion. 
This is the soul itself. The motion acts as an excitation ; a stimulus to 
call the soul into activity. The soul, thus incited, responds with a 
sensation. The true cause of a sensation is, therefore, the activity of the 
soul, while the affection of the sense and the change in the nerve and brain 
are necessary to set this cause in action. Sensation may thus be regarded 
as the meeting place of the physical and the psychical ; the transition from 



THE BASES OF PSYCHICAL LIFE. 1$ 

one to the other. It is in sensation that nature gains qualities, and is 
transformed into color, sound, shape, etc., instead of remaining a mono- 
tonous repetition of motions. And in sensation the soul comes in connection 
with mechanical law, with physical stimulus, so as to be itself mechanically 
controlled. 

Touch, th8 Foundation Sense.— Touch is important 
because it is the foundation sense, and because it is most closely 
connected with the organ for the expression of the will — the 
muscular system. It may be called the foundatioi . sense for two 
reasons — First, because the other senses appear to be developed 
from it ; since biologically considered, they are differentations 
of it ; and, secondly, because the other senses rest upon it for 
assistance and confirmation. Touch gives the most intimate 
and detailed knowledge of any sense. To be in contact with 
anything is synonymous with having relations of closest ac 
quaintance with it. We also attribute a superior reality to the 
reports of this sense, for after feeling that our eyes and ears 
may deceive us, on account of their remoteness from the object, 
we attempt to grasp the object, and by handling it, to get a sense 
of certainty. It is characteristic of ghosts that while they can 
be seen and heard they cannot be touched. The other reason 
given for the educational importance of this sense is its close 
connection with the organ of motor activity, — the muscular 
system. Touch is pre-eminently an active sense. Touching 
is almost identical with the exercise of energy. Contact is not 
passive reception of impressions, but is grasping and exploring. 
The hand, that most mobile of organs, is the peculiar organ of 
touch. A child is never contented until he has the object he 
perceives in his hands, and turns it over and over, and " tries " 
it for himself. The first real education of the senses comes through 
touch, and wherever the senses are largely concerned, the teacher 
must continue to rely upon it. 

Importance of Sight and Hearing. — The importance 
of sight and hearing in knowledge is such a commonplace that it 



14 SENSATION. 

is unnecessary to call attentioii to more than two or three points. 
One of these points is the complex and varied apparatus which 
each sense possesses for making discriminations. There is almost 
no limit to tht finenessof culture of which these senses are suscept- 
ible. They give the clearest and most definite of all sensations. 
It is further to be noted that the eye is, in a certain way, the sense 
for space, and that it follows from this that whatever exists as a 
whole made up of co-existent parts should be presented to the 
eye in order to be apprehended most readily and thoroughly. 
The range also of this sense is so great that its capacity for 
simultaneous impressions makes it a fit organ for grasping the 
relations of a complex subject. Hence the use of maps, chron- 
ological charts, number-tables, and all graphic representations. 
The ear, on the other hand, is the sense for time and of events 
that follow one another, and hence should be appealed to 
wherever a subject is to be learned in which the relation of 
sequence predominates. 

Individual Differences in Sense-Organs.— Atten tion 
however, should be called to the fact that individual differences 
may make necessary a departure from the rules just laid down. 
There are always some children in whom one sense predomin- 
ates to such a degree that it is the natural organ for learning 
and for recalling. This prominence may occur in such a way 
that the child is of the motor, the visual ox the auditory type. In 
the visual type, the eye is the leading sense, impressions being 
received most easily and retained most permanently through 
this organ. Such persons note readily all the details which 
they see, and can picture them vividly to themselves afterwards. 
Draughtsmen, geometers and chess players of unusual ability 
are generally pronounced visualists. Artists have been known 
to paint accurately portraits from the vividness of their mental 
vision without the presence of the person represented. Persons 
of this type when repeating memorized matter seem to see the 
written or printed page before their eyes and to read from it 



THE BASES OF PSYCHICAL LIFE. 1 5 

Memory exists in terms of the sense through which the impression 
is most easily received. 

The same is to be said of the auditory and motor types, 
excepting that in these cases the ear or else muscular activity 
with touch takes the lead. Those of the auditory type memor- 
ize most easily by reading the matter aloud. Upon repeating 
it they seem to hear a voice reading to them. Those of the 
motor type will articulate to themselves when reading, studying, 
or engaged in reflection ; and when recalling they depend upon 
a repetition of this silent articulation. They often assist them- 
selves with a kind of suppressed movement of the fingers, as if 
writing. While an excessively one-sided development of any 
sense is to be avoided, the teachers can often be of great service 
to the pupil by discovering to what type the pupil belongs, and 
appealing to him through that sense. 

Educational Principles. — We may conclude this study 
by summing up certain educational principles flowing from the 
psychology of sensation. 

i. The teacher should remember that it is impossible to have 
knowledge where there has been no basis in presentation. There 
can no more be an idea of anything external not derived in 
some way from sensation than a blind man can tell how colors 
look. Hence the necessity of constant appeal to the pupil's 
own sense-activity, instead of talking about or representing the 
thing to be known. Seeing is more than believing in primary- 
education ; it is the beginning of knowledge. This does not 
imply that no knowledge can be had excepting knowledge of 
just that which has been presented to the senses. On the con- 
trary, the imagination and reasoning powers are capable of 
erecting large and real superstructures upon a very slight basis 
of sensation ; but it is meant that there must be some sensory 
basis. Furthermore, a constant activity of the senses in early 
years is necessary in order to develop the imagination and 



1 6 INTERESTS. 

thought to the point where they may be able to widen the 
reports of the senses. 

2. The teacher should also keep in mind the limitations of 
sensation. Sensation is not knowledge, but only a stimulus to it, 
and material for it. The mental processes must act upon the 
sense-material. It must not be forgotten, therefore, that 
the ulti?nate end of appealing to the senses is the development of 
the self -activity of the pupil in putting into motion those pro- 
cesses of the pupil's mind which will apprehend the sensations, 
and in strengthening the processes so that they will grow natur- 
ally into memory, imagination and thought. 

3. The teacher should remember the necessity of a proper 
adaptation of teaching, first, to the stage of development of sense- 
activity reached by the pupil, secondly, to the proper sense for 
taking in the particular subject taught, and thirdly, to any 
peculiarities that may exist in the senses of the individual under 
instruction. 

Note. — Regarding the details of sensation, see Dewey's Psychology, 
chapter III. 

§ 2. THE INTERESTS. 

We have been dealing with sensation as the basis of infor- 
mation about objects and events — with the beginnings of 
k?iowledge. But we have had occasion to notice that sensa- 
tions possess ' tone ' in greater or less degree, that is, that 
they have a certain agreeable or disagreeable emotional 
effect. This is not any part of the information conveyed by 
the sensation, but is a part of the relation of the presentation 
to the mind. It arises because of the interest which the pre- 
sentation has for the mind. It is the matter of interest which 
is now to be discussed. 

Interest cannot be described, it can only be felt. But every 
one knows what he means by saying that something interests 
him ; he means that it bears such a relation to him as renders 



*HE BASES OF PSYCHICAL LIFE. 1 7 

it attractive, and draws and fixes the mind's attention. While 
an analytic description cannot be given, certain differences 
between the interesting side of a presentation and that which 
affords knowledge may be pointed out. 

i. Interest is emotional rather than intellectual. That is to 
say, it does not "give information about anything in the external 
world, but arises from the state of the mind itself. It is usually 
accompanied with pain or pleasure, but cannot be said to be 
identical with them. 

a. Interest is sybjecih!£, while knowledge is objective. The 
term objective means having to do with the world, with objects, 
events and their laws ; while the term subjective means belong- 
ing to the subject, to the mind without regard to the world 
outside. 

3. Interest is individual, while knowledge is universal. By 
universal we mean belonging to a world which is open to all 
minds alike. That seven and nine make sixteen is a universal 
fact ; it holds for all minds under all circumstances. By in- 
dividual we mean being the unique and peculiar possession of 
some one mind. Others may have an interest similar to mine 
in, say, the subject of arithmetic, but none can share in my 
interest. They cannot even know that it exists unless I speak 
of it, or, by some other external act, make it known. In itself 
it is wholly internal, and not a fact in the world, but a fact 
belonging to me, or to thee, to some individual. 

Interest is as much a spontaneous capacity of the mind as 
sensation is. It is an ultimate and irreducible fact, and, like 
sensation, an indispensable basis for higher development. 
"While it may be cultivated and transferred from subject to sub- 
ject m such a way as to make interesting what was previously 
indifferent or repulsive, it can no more be originally created 
than a new sense can be created. 

Importance of Interest. — The psychological importance 



1 8 INTERESTS, 

of interest is found in the fact that it is the means by which 
the mind is drawn to any subject, and led to exercise itself 
upon it. Whatever does not interest the mind, that the mind is 
indifferent to ; and whatever is indifferent is for that mind as 
if it had no existence. The problem of teaching an intelligent 
savage some technical scientific matter would not be chiefly a 
problem of how to give him sensations regarding it, nor how to 
give him mental capacity enough to understand it, but how to 
arouse his interest in such a way that he would set his mind to 
work upon it. Interest is, therefore, as much a necessary source 
of knowledge as is sensation. Sensations might have all the 
objective qualities that they now possess and yet if they failed 
to interest, the mind would pass them over and they would 
never enter into the structure of our knowledge. 

Educational Principle. — The resulting educational prin- 
ciple is clear. While it is not necessary that learning should be 
made a matter of play ; while, indeed, education as the direc- 
tion of the mind by methods supplied from without, is opposed 
to theveryidea of play, it is necessary that teaching should always 
appeal to some interest, and, if the subject is not intrinsically 
interesting, that interest should be made to gather about it 
That is, the subject should also be connected with something 
that does possess this intrinsic interest. In teaching children 
there is but little difficulty in making interesting sensations into 
elements of knowledge. The chief problem is how to invest 
the indifferent with interest. By no observance of rules can this 
be done; it is matter of personal power in the teacher — a 
power almost wholly due to sympathy which is, in the emotional 
world, what attention is in the intellectual world. Under the 
influence of this power the teacher is interested in the subject 
for the sake of the pupil ; interest begets interest, and the pupil 
often becomes interested in the indifferent for the sake of the 
teacher. The teacher should also keep in mind the individua* 
and subjective character of interest as a reason why his mode 



THE BASES OF PSYCHICAL LIFE. 1 9 

of presenting a subject should be varied sufficiently to catch the 
differing interests of different minds. 

Note. — On this subject see Dewey's Psychology, pp. 16 and 246, et seq. 

§3. IMPULSE. 

Having studied the intellectual and emotional basis 
of the psychical life, we have to take up Impulse as the 
volitional basis. Impulses are activities which arise from 
some feeling of want and which, guided by interest i?i the satisfaction 
of that want, lead to some physical change. For illustration, 
we may take the impulse for food. This arises from the organic 
feeling, hunger, a feeling of lack and of desire for something to 
satisfy this lack, and it manifests itself in certain movements 
of the body, those necessary to supply the lack. Impulse 
reverses the order of sensation. The latter begins in outward 
physical motion which traverses the sensory nerves to the brain, 
and then becomes a psychical state. But impulses begin in a 
psychical state, and this, by means of the brain and motor nerves, 
is transformed into outward motion. Sensation moves inward 
and impulse outwards. 

Importance of Impulse. — To be convinced of the import- 
ance of impulse we need but watch any sentient being from 
the lowest to the highest, and call to mind that all their actions, 
excepting the purely physiological, are only the outward expres- 
sions of impulse. Impulse, in short, is the basis of will. It is 
only the basis, however, for it requires to be regulated, and its 
various forms harmonized with one another before it becomes 
a true act of will ; the growth of will begins with the acqui- 
sition of power over bodily movements ; the will-less activities 
of impulse are isolated and co-ordinafed into movements in 
which purpose is clearly displayed : thus the child begins to 
seize an object, to hold the head erect, to sit alone, to stand, to 
walk, to talk, etc. Impulses, like sensations, have to be acted 



2d IMPULSE. 

upon by higher psychical processes in order to be changed into 
finished products. 

Impulse and Instinct. — Impulses are closely connected 
with instincts. Indeed, an instinct may be defined as an im- 
pulse which takes at once, without being taught by experience, 
the channel necessary to reach its proper end. Instinct, in 
other words, is an impulse which leads one to do, without any 
knowledge of the reason why, just what one would do, if he 
had complete knowledge of the circumstances. The impulse 
for food, for example is, in most animals and in man in his 
infancy, an instinct, because the organism of each, as soon 
as it feels the want of food, takes just the measures needed to 
secure it, and does this without being guided by previous ex- 
perience. 

Impulses Classified.. — Impulses maybe classified, accord- 
ing to the stimulus which arouses the sense of want, as im- 
pulses of sensation, of perception, of imitation, and of expression. 

i. Impulses of Sensation. — A sensation not only reports 
something external to the organism, but it excites a tendency 
to act with regard to that something, to appropriate it. Thus 
the appetites, which are regularly recurring tendencies to lay 
hold of something external and to make it a part of the organ- 
ism, arise in needs which are excited by organic affections, that 
is by general sensations. But the special senses have also cor- 
responding impulses. There is a hunger of the sense of 
touch for contact with bodies, of the sense of hearing for 
sounds, etc. Any one who has been shut off,. as by sickness, 
from his accustomed quota of sensations, knows that the 
pleasure of recovery consists largely in the satisfaction of the 
hunger of these senses. The impulses are now permitted to 
act freely. There is such a thing as starving the mind by not 
satisfying the sense-impulses, as well as starving the body by 
not satisfying its hunger-impulse. 



THE BASES OF PSYCHICAL LIFE. 21 

2. Impulses of Perception. — These are such as arise directly 
from the mere perception of an object. They come under 
the head of impulses to grasp something or, in some way, 
to continue the exploration of it. An infant begins to 
reach for things as soon as he begins definitely to perceive 
them. This impulse is one of the chief foundations of the 
play impulse. The child not only grasps the objects, but 
handles them, moves them here and there, tests their various 
qualities for himself, and tries to see what he can do with 
them. 

3. Impulses to Imitation. — As soon as an infant clearly 
sees the actions of others, there is an instinctive impulse to re- 
produce them^in himself. He does not understand the original 
intention of the action, nor why he endeavors to repeat it, but 
the very perception of the action renders the child, for the time 
being, an automaton. A baby " reads " when he takes a news- 
paper or book, marks when he gets hold of a pencil, brushes 
with a. broom, strikes with a whip, and so on indefinitely. This 
tendency to imitation is an exceedingly important factor in early 
education, enabling the child to learn easily what would other- 
wise be effected, if at all, only by very laborious training. 

4. Impulses to Expression. — These begin with the expres 
sion of emotion or of inward states. Thus the infant cries, 
smiles, laughs, draws back in fright, etc. These outward acts 
are not originally intended to manifest the emotions, but are 
their involuntary results. Finally, however, they may be used 
as signs for denoting the mental states which formerly produced 
them. After the expression of inward feeling comes the 
manifestation of impressions produced by external objects. The 
child points to and makes noises at any object that interests 
him, and thus there gradually arises the whole class of gestures. 
Among those in whom articulate speech does not render it 
unnecessary there is produced a gesture language. This is 



22 IMPULSE. 

found among deaf-mutes and among savage tribes who are in 
close relations with other tribes, speaking different dialects. So 
instinctive and unconventional is this mode of expression 
that it has been found that North American Indians and deaf- 
mutes have no difficulty in understanding one another when 
they come together, even for the first time. The highest class 
of ^impulses of expression is that of the communication of 
ideas. This manifests itself, for the most part, in spoken 
language. In civilized mankind, at least, there is an impulse 
towards speech as strong and as instinctive as that towards 
locomotion. 

Educational Principles. — The educational bearing of 
what has been said regarding the impulses is evident. 

(i) The teacher should keep in mind the close connection of 
the senses as source of knowledge with the senses as active 
tendencies. It is not enough merely to put things before the 
senses, care must be taken to see that the senses are directed 
upon the things. Education of the senses comes through use 
of the senses, and trai?iingi?i the use of senses is traini?ig of the 
will, — of the regulation and co-ordination of impulses. An 
infant does not see, at first, not because the objects are not 
reflected on its retina, but because there is no fixity of gaze, no 
control over vision, but only a wandering, aimles glance dir- 
ected by any chance impulses. The baby learns to see, as 
afterwards it learns to walk, by regulating and combining such 
impulses. The teacher's work in training the senses must be 
an extension and refining of this spontaneous learning. 

(2) The teacher should bear in mind the great importance of 
the instincts. It is of the highest import that teaching should 
appeal to some natural instinct already existing and that it 
should draw out and develop this instinct. It is of equal im- 
portance that the order of instruction in subjects should cor- 
respond to the natural order of the appearance of instincts in 



EDUCATIONAL PRINCIPLES. 23 

the child. It has been well said that the pedagogical equivalent 
of " strike while the iron is hot " is " seize every instinct at the 
height of its development." In early life, each instinct as it 
appears is so imperious that it is almost impossible that it should 
not meet satisfaction. This constitutes the self-taught, or rather 
the unconsciously taught period, during which the child 
learns to talk, to walk, etc. Afterwards as the instincts are 
more subtle and involved, there is greater need of the teacher's 
tact and control. Before an instinct in a given direction 
has shown itself, it is hopeless to educate a child in that 
direction ; after that instinct has given way to another, interest 
dies out and the teacher, instead of availing himself of the tide 
of energy setting naturally in that direction, has to evoke 
activity by artificial aids. 

(3) Let the teacher, then, make the most of the impulses that 
have been described. It follows from the perception-impulses 
that the child must be doing something; under a judicious 
teacher this impulse can be gratified and at the same time 
directed. In rural schools a great deal of time is wasted, or 
more than wasted, which the child should occupy in gratifying 
his instinct for activity. He can be led — unless the teacher 
is quite without power — to take an interest in many so-called 
kindergarten operations, in writing, drawing, etc., by which he 
is sure to gain quickness of eye and deftness of hand. 

In such occupations, too, the impulse of imitation finds play : 
the child likes to imitate the things that are pleasing to the eye, 
and skilful imitation soon leads to the desire and the power to 
invent beautiful forms. But more especially this impulse is a 
powerful co-factor with the " environment " in educating the 
child. At first he unconsciously imitates the actions, the tones, 
the gestures, the whole demeanor of those about him ; but un- 
conscious imitation gives place to, or rather is strengthened by 
voluntary imitation. When the bond of sympathy has been 
formed between his teacher and himself, the child makes a 



24 THE PSYCHICAL PROCESSES. 

conscious effort to grow like the teacher. There is an intense 
charm in imitating him to whom, as posessed of superior 
powers, he looks up with reverence — fear blended with love. 
He feels that he is growing in strength, in wisdom, in all manly 
qualities, when he is growing like his teacher whom he regards 
with so much deference. Thus it is that the characteristics of 
the teacher, his personal habits (neatness, etc.) his tones of 
voice, his gestures, his self-control, his energy, etc., have a 
powerful influence in forming the character of the pupil. 

The impulse of expression is equally important and equally 
neglected. Let not the teacher thwart, but rather gratify the 
impulse ; through genuine sympathy let him gain the con- 
fidence of the child, who will then be able to lay aside his 
timidity and will take pleasure in trying to express his simple 
thoughts and feelings. Every lesson should be #. lesson in 
expression as well as a lesson in thinking ; in fact, a lesson in 
expression because it is a lesson in thinking. 

Note. — Regarding the impulses, see Dewey's Psychology, Chapter 
XVIL 



CHAPTER III. 

THE PSYCHICAL PROCESSES. 



Three Ways in which Elements are Coa-nected. 
— We have now to take up the processes by which the raw 
material — sensations, interests and impulses — are worked up 
into the forms of actual experience. If we examine what 
makes up the contents of our minds, we shall see that the 
complex forms whose mode of production we have to discover, 
may be roughly grouped into three classes. 

(t) In the first place, there -are wholes made up of coexist- 
ent members. For example, as I look out of my window I 



PSYCHICAL PROCESSES. 85 

do not get disconnected and fragmentary color sensations, but 
I see a diversified landscape with its many features, and all are 
present at about the same instant of time. The first group 
is thus that which comprehends ideas composed of simultane- 
ous or coexistent parts. 

(2) But obviously not all our mental experience will come 
under this head. The sight of the landscape may suggest some- 
thing that I have read in Wordsworth's poetry, this in turn may 
call up Tennyson, this the subject of the House of Lords, and 
so on indefinitely. Here we have a train of ideas, and its 
members are connected successively, not simultaneously. 

(3) Finally we might be led from the idea of the House of 
Lords to consider the advantages and disadvantages of an 
aristocracy. In this case, we would compare the history of 
different nations, examine political causes and effects, weigh 
and sift evidence, reject all that did not seem to bear upon the 
case in hand, and arrange the remaining facts to meet the 
desired end. Here the result, as in the second case, would be a 
train of ideas, consisting of successive members, but yet differing 
from the second group. It is not a series whose parts suggest 
one another at haphazard, but a controlled and regulated series. 
The order is not one of time merely, but of an underlying 
idea or end with reference to which the ideas are connected. 
In other words, the second group comprises those trains of 
successive members in which one idea is allowed to suggest 
others just as may happen, while the third group includes 
those trains whose successive parts are intentionally controlled 
so as to lead up to some end. 

The Processes which Produce these Groups. — We 
have now to study the processes by which the elements are 
united into these three groups. Still speaking in a rough and 
general way, we may say that Non voluntary Attention is the 
power active in producing what we may call the simultaneous 
group ; Association, that in producing the group of successive 



26 NON-VOLUNTARY ATTENTION. 

uncontrolled parts, and Voluntary Attention, the source of the 
group of successive parts purposely controlled and arranged. 

§ 1. NON-VOLUNTARY ATTENTION. 

Meaning of the Expression. — By attention is mean 
simply the dwellin g of the mind upon jome^rjre^niadoiLQiLsoina. 
factor of a presentation_s.o as to^h'e-it^imminencer The term 
' non volunta ry/ implies that the mind is turned upon this 
subject-matter simply on account of the attracti veness of the 
matter, not by reason of any intervention on the part of the will. 
It is an act of attention when a student keeps his mind fixed 
upon his lessons in spite of all distracting circumstances ; of 
voluntary attention if it requires a definite resolve of the will to 
effect it, of non-voluntary if the subject natur a lly arouses and 
absorbs his mind. It is evident that no n-voluntary attentio n 
must always precede voluntary. A baby ' notices ' (and this 
' noticing ' is precisely what is meant by attention) not because 
any appeal is made to his reason and will to keep his mind di- 
rected that one way, but because what is noticed interests and 
excites him. We have to study the conditions and the effects 
of non-voluntary attention. 

1. Conditions- — The condition under which any presenta- 
tion awakens noi*. voluntary attention is that it be interesting. 
The attention is aroused, awakened, drawn, attracted by some 
intrinsic interests in the presentation. We may possibly give 
attention to what does not interest us, but only if we force our- 
selves by power of will to do so ; and such an act of volition is, 
of course, not non-voluntary attention. Interest may, however, 
be either natural or acquired. 

(1) Natural Interest. — By this we mean the value which 
the presentation has in itself, apart from all connection with 
other factors of mind. For example, the color of an orange 
may interest a child either because the color is pleasing in 
itself, or because it suggested the pleasant taste of the fruit. 
In the former case only is it natural or spontaneous interest. 



NON-VOLUNTARY ATTENTION. 27 

Quantity and Tone. — The constituent elements of natural 
interest are quantity and tone of sensation, including under 
quantity what we have previously classed as intensity and ex- 
tensity. If there are presented at the same time, two colors or 
two sounds, the infant mind will always listen to the loudest 
sound and look at the brightest color. In the early development 
of intelligence, the impression that beats upon the doors of con- 
sciousness with the greatest force is the one admitted. The 
tone of a sensation we have already explained to mean the 
agreeable or disagreeable property which accompanies it. The 
organic sensations, hunger, thirst, fatigue, satisfaction, etc., 
possess the greatest amount of emotional accompaniment, and 
hence, as the most interesting, absorb attention almost wholly 
in the early life of the infant. To say that a baby knows 
when he is hungry, when he knows nothing else, is simply to 
say that the sensation of hunger will attract his attention when 
nothing else will do so. Gradually the mind is freed from its 
bondage to organic affections. The pleasures that go along 
with tastes, smells, muscular activity, and finally with hearing 
and sight, attract the mind to notice all the elements which are 
admitted through the " five gateways of knowledge." 

(2) Acquired Interest, — As suggested, a presentation 
may acquire value in virtue of its surroundings. The sight of 
the cup from which a baby takes his food has at first perhaps 
not nearly so much interest for him as other more brightly 
colored objects about him, but its association with the satis- 
faction of his appetite gradually lends it an attractiveness ot 
its own. We may reduce the conditions which lead to the 
acquisition of interest to two heads— familiarity and novelty. 

Familiarity. — Originally all experiences aside from the 
influence of quantity and tone stand upon the same level, all 
are equally noticed and hence equally unnoticed. There is no 
perspective, no foreground and no background. We have a 
somewhat similar experience when we are thrown into surround- 



28 PSYCHICAL PROCESSES. 

ings wholly new. Everything looks alike to us ; even the faces 
about us seem all made from one pattern. "We do not know 
where to begin," we say. That is, nothing stands out so as to 
attract our attention to itself. We have to get our bearings. 
Nothing aids us so much in this process as the constant recur- 
rence of certain features. Those factors which are repeated 
stand out more prominently. The familiar occurrences are 
separated from their surroundings, and become interesting from 
this very fact. Similarly we may suppose that the fog which 
surrounds the intellectual life of an infant lifts from about those 
persons and objects which are always recurring in his experience, 
his parents, brothers and sisters, nurse, cradle, articles used in 
connection with his food, etc They become centres of interest, 
and in acquiring this interest they fix the mind's attention and 
gain distinctness. 

Novelty. — While in general it is the familiar that interests 
and draws us to itself, yet familiarity may be carried to the point 
where it ceases to call out the mind's activity. Those who live 
near a cataract or in a mill cease to pay attention to the noise. 
It has nothing to interest them. Similarly, we do not notice 
the familiar ticking of the clock in our room, the pressure of 
clothing upon our body, or an even temperature about us. 
Qualities which are the first to strike a stranger we never notice 
in our most intimate friends. It is a common proverb that 
familiarity deadens and dulls. Now in these cases nothing 
arouses the sleepy attention so soon as change. Let the water- 
fall change its noise, let the mill stop, let the clock cease tick- 
ing, let the unnoticed feature of our friend alter, and at once 
we are all attention. 

Familiarity and Novelty in Connection. — The truth 
of the matter seems to be that it is neither the familiar nor the 
novel which interests in itself, but one in connection with the 
other. It is the old in the midst of the new — as when a traveller 
hears his own language in a foreign country — or the novel in the 



NON-VOLUNTARY ATTENTION. 29 

midst of the customary — as when we hear a strange tongue 
spoken in our own country — that attracts attention. That which 
is wholly novel has no points of connection with our experience 
and hence cannot interest, while we have become so habituated 
to the wholly familiar that we find nothing in it which seems 
worth dwelling upon. 

2. Effects of Non-Voluntary Attention. — Atten- 
tion is both positive and negative in its workings. That is to 
say, the mind dwells upon some presentations only because 
it draws away from others. Imagine a light equally diffused 
over a room, then imagine all the light focussed in some one 
point. It is evident that the rest of the room will grow dark as 
this one point grows bright. So it is with attention. Attention 
has its aspect of exclusion as well as of inclusion. 

Effects of Withdrawal of Attention. — It follows 
that what is not attended to is not brought into consciousness. 
Not everything that comes before the senses, or even that 
affects them strongly, comes to be knowledge. There is an 
indefinite throng of stimuli — sights, sounds, pressures, etc., 
knocking for entrance into consciousness, which never come 
within its gates, because, the mind not attending to them, no 
mental activity is brought to bear upon them. We are almost 
always unaware of our organic sensations, of the contact of 
our clothing with our bodies, of the surrounding temperature, 
etc., because these things do not interest us enough to attract 
our minds. One may sit before an open window and have 
the scenes of a busy street pictured upon the retina of one's 
eye, and yet be conscious of nothing that is going on. The 
withdrawal of attention may go so far that the mind can 
almost bid defiance to external stimulus. Soldiers, wounded in 
battle, but not aware of pain, Archimedes so engaged in 
geometrical study as to be unconscious of the battle at his 
very doors, will serve as illustrations. 

Positive Effects of Attention.— On the other hand, to 



30 PSYCHICAL PROCESSES. 

attend to a presentation is to hold it before the mind, to get it 
within the range of psychical activity and thus to bring into con- 
sciousness what would otherwise remain outside. There is no 
fact of which we are aware, that would not serve as illustration 
of this principle, but perhaps instances of unusual ability in 
various directions show it in clearest light. Workers in steel 
are said to distinguish half-a dozen shades of color in what 
appears to one non-expert as a uniform glow. That is to say, 
by the cultivation of attention they are enabled to bring to 
consciousness what entirely escapes others. Similarly, tea- 
tasters, etc., perceive a great number of differences, where 
others would get only one impression. A trained botanist will 
see more in a casual glance through a microscope than one 
untrained would discover by careful searching. The power of 
attending, in other words, is equivalent to the power of being 
conscious. 

The Uniting Power of Attention. — Not only does 
attention distinguish what were otherwise unperceived, but it 
unites. Its general law, the basis of all mental progress what- 
ever, is that all elements attended to by one and the same act of 
mind become me??ibers of one idea. 

Consequently all elements not taken in by this act, must be 
grasped by another movement of attention, and hence become 
another idea. In other words, a single idea — a single concrete 
state of consciousness — means whatever has been laid hold of 
by one act of attention. It makes no difference to this one 
idea whether its parts are many or few, whether they are 
naturally coherent or the reverse. Here then we have the first 
process by which the mass of sensations pouring in upon us is 
given form and unity. 

i. Illustration that a Number of Elements are Capable of 
Union in One Idea. — We may best begin with a simple exam- 
ple. Suppose twenty dots placed before the eye but arranged 
very irregularly. The mind in order to take them in may be 



NON-VOLUNTARY ATTENTION. 31 

obliged to pay attention to one at a time — to count them. In 
this case, there will be twenty separate ideas involved. Now 
suppose them rearranged into four groups of five dots each, 
each group being regular in itself, but not symmetrical with the 
others. Here we shall have just the same amount apprehend- 
ed by four acts of attention, and hence with four resulting 
ideas. If these four groups are now formed into one symmetri- 
cal whole the mind will apprehend all in one idea, although 
there is really just as much there to be seen, as when the act 
of apprehension involves twenty ideas. This illustrates the fact 
that it makes no difference to the unity of an idea, how much 
there is in it, provided only it can all be taken in by one act of 
attention. 

Application of this Illustration. — This abstract illus- 
tration may be made more definite by supposing a fact substi- 
tuted for each dot, and relations between these facts for the 
spatial arrangement of the dots. Twenty isolated facts will 
require as many acts of attention to apprehend them and hence 
will produce as many distinct ideas. But group the facts under 
one law — as various astronomical facts are connected in the law 
of gravitation — and the mind at once binds them together into 
the unity of one idea grasped and carried in one act. The 
same result occurs when no law is known, if any kind of con- 
nection can be made out between the various facts. Just as 
the mind, for the sake of ease in apprehending and economy in 
carrying impressions, will attempt to form some kind of group- 
ing among the twenty dots, even where none is apparent, so it 
will strive to unite separate ideas by making connections, even 
if none exist upon the surface. This brings us to the second 
fact mentioned, that elements having no actual coherence will 
form parts of one idea, if they can be attended to at once. 

2. Illustration that Unlike Elements are Capable of Union 
in one idea. — It may be said indeed that for the union of various 
elements in one idea, it is sufficient for these elements to exist 



3 « PSYCHICAL PROCESSES. 

at the same time, without there being any real connection what- 
ever among them. This is without doubt the original source of 
union of the elements presented in sensation, simple co-exist- 
ence in time. At a later period, the mind, of course, reviews 
the connections which it has formed earlier in life, and rejects 
those whose parts do not seem really to belong together. For 
example, an infant originally connects the smell, taste and sight 
of an orange, not because he sees that these qualities are really 
component parts of the orange (on the contrary, it is only by 
connecting them that he gets the idea of the orange at all) but 
simply because these sensations are given to him at the same 
time. Afterwards he finds that there is more than a mere con- 
nection of time between these sensations, that they are what 
we call really connected, and he confirms his original act of 
union, while in other cases, he may reverse his first act of con- 
nection. The important thing to notice here is that whenever 
there is no obstacle offered, the mind connects whatever it can 
connect, even upon so slight a basis as occurrence at the same 
point of time. Many of the popular fallacies and superstitions 
have arisen from a tendency to give a real connection to events 
which are only casually connected; in this we have an explanation 
of the common fallacies described by the Latin phrase post hoc 
ergo propter hoc — " after this, therefore in consequence of this " — 
With the new moon a change in the weather has occurred, 
therefore the moon influences the weather ; with the appearance 
of a comet, a war or a pestilence has broken out, therefore 
comets portend disaster, etc. For many generations the people 
of St. Kilda believed that the arrival of a ship in the harbour 
caused an epidemic of influenza, and clever men assigned 
many ingenious reasons why the ship should produce " colds in 
the head " among the population. At last it occurred to some 
bold thinker that the arrival of the ship might not be the cause 
of the distemper, but that both might be the effect of a common 
cause, and then it was remembered that a ship could enter the 
harbour only when a strong north-east wind was blowing. 



EDtTCAflOlNAL PklNCtPLES. 33 

further Illustrations. — Two or three simple examples may make 
the principles clearer. A French psychologist tells of a little boy who 
when going under a railway bridge happened to think of a toy horse which 
had been given him, and said "my horse." For a long time after that he 
never went under anything whatever without saying "my horse." Although 
there was absolutely no real connection between the two facts, they were 
connected for him in one idea simply because he had attended to both at 
the same time. Another example : a child who once noticed that a railway 
train stopped just as some one moved the catch in a window of the car, 
supposed for a long time after, that all trains were stopped by means of the 
window catch. These examples, trivial as they are, serve none the less to 
illustrate the law upon which all mental acquisition is originally founded — 
namely, that whatever sensations occur at the same time can be attended to 
by one and the same act unless there is some actual opposition between 
them, and, since they are grasped in one act of attention, they become 
members of one idea. Thus it is that sensations in themselves fragmentary 
and separate become united into the simultaneous wholes of co-existent 
parts, which constitute so large a part of our actual experience. 

Educational Principles. 

(t) The Necessity of Activity.— Perhaps the chief point for 
the teacher to keep in mind is the necessity of some activity of 
attention on the part of the child from the very first and in 
every operation. No amount of presentation, however skittftrTj 
no amount of repetition, however persistent ; no amount of 
explanation, however clear — is of any avail, unless the child's 
attention, the one condition of learning which cannot be dis- 
pensed with, is secured. That there is attention, simply means 
that the child's mind is working upon the subject attended to ; 
and that the child is non-attentive, simply means that there is 
no connection between his mind and the subject. In the 
latter case, the teacher and pupil might as well be in different 
worlds so far as any educational relation between them is 
concerned. 

(2) Possible Errors. — There is a tendency at present to 
emphasize the need of sense presentation, of intuition and of 
object lessons in teaching. This is well ; the need cannot be 

c 



34 PSYCHICAL PROCESSES. 

over-emphasized, provided it be remembered that placing the 
objects before the senses, no more insures their being appre- 
hended, to say nothing, of their right apprehension, than 
putting food before one insures its being eaten, to say nothing 
of its being digested and assimilated. There must be an 
activity proceeding from the mind ; this may be stimulated 
but cannot be produced by another. Here, we have occasion to 
renew the caution referred to in the first chapter against the error 
of over-estimating the part — important as it undoubtedly is — 
which the teacher can play in education. There is a dis- 
position on the part of some teachers to substitute the work of 
presentation and explanation of material for the more difficult, 
because less mechanical and more personal task, of getting the 
pupils' mind at work upon the material. 

3. Non-voluntary Attention must be Secured Indirectly. — This 
attention cannot be gained however by the mere directing of 
the child "to pay attention." Such an injunction, at the stage 
of development now considered, must be meaningless. Attention 
must be attracted, not forced. The subject matter, in other 
words, must be made of interest. This interest once obtained, 
attention follows naturally and even inevitably. The teacher 
therefore can hardly overestimate the importance of Interest: 
it is the beginning of non-voluntary attention, this leads to dis- 
crimination and association, this to voluntary attention, and this 
again is the test and condition of intellectual development. 

4. It can hardly need repeating that interesting does not mean amusing. 
It does not mean that the subject must be surrounded with factitious 
attractions in order to appeal to some individual taste of the pupil. Such 
a conception wrongs and belittles the intelligence of the child. Every 
child, not actually stupid, takes delight in the activity of his mind as he 
does in the activity of his body, and to render a subject interesting means 
only to make it capable of calling forth this natural activity. To rely upon 
such sources of interest, as are directed, not to the native and simple delight 
in mental activity, but to awakening various outside pleasures, is like think- 
ing that a child's natural hunger cannot be trusted to make him eat appro- 
priate food, but that his palate must be artifically stimulated and tickled. 



EDUCATIONAL PRINCIPLES. 3$ 

Two wrongs are thus committed. The child's true intellectual powers are 
left in abeyance, and an abnormal faculty, requiring constantly increasing 
artificial stimulus, is created. 

5. Use of the Play-impulse. — On the other hand, in early- 
training good use may be made of the "play-impulse" by a 
proper selection of work which the child will take delight in — 
for example, some of the gifts and occupations of the kinder- 
garten. Between such work and the play-impulse there is an 
available relation, as the success of kindergarten methods clearly 
proves. The principles of the kindergarten, and some of its 
methods— or at least modified forms of them — may be applied 
in all primary education. Why not awaken attention by 
gratifying the hunger of the senses — of the eye for seeing, of the 
ear for hearing, of the hand for doing? There is scarcely a 
child that will not become deeply interested in Building, Folding, 
Pricking, Stick-laying, Drawing, etc. He will therefore give the 
best of non-voluntary attention to what he is doing, and thus 
will begin to form habits both mental and physical which must 
prove of high value in his future development. 

6. Methods of Awakening Normal Interest. — Normal attrac- 
tion is such as naturally calls forth in some degree the attention 
of every healthy mind. No specified rules for creating it can 
here be given. That belongs partly to pedagogy, in a narrow 
sense, and still more to the personal power of the teacher. But 
notice may again be called to the fact that interest depends 
largely upon familiarity and novelty and their intermixture in 
due proportion. To thrust something new upon a child, and 
take no pains to bring out points of likeness between this new 
subject and those already somewhat familiar, is to repel attention. 
To continue to dwell upon a topic or illustration worn thread- 
bare will give the same result. Connections should be made 
between matters and interests familiar outside of school, and 
those taken up within, as well as between various school subjects. 
A boy may sometimes be interested in arithmetic by connecting 



%6 Psychical processes. 

a problem with his father's business, etc. Interest in history or 
in geography may be called torth in connection with contempor- 
aneous events in which the pupils have or may be made to have 
a lively interest. It is a great mistake in all ways, but in none 
more than in this matter of attention, to shut off the school 
from the outside world. 

(7) Further Suggestions. — (a) The negative aspect of attention, 
the shutting but of impressions which would call away the 
mind from the matter in hand, should be looked after. Before 
the development of voluntary attention the mind follows the 
greater of two interests, and if this should happen not to be 
connected with the study, the latter will suffer. (b) In this 
connection there may be noticed certain physical conditions of 
attention, depending on the child's health and vigour, and on 
his surroundings. Attention, even in its early stage, means 
mind-tension, and this, again, means a severe demand on 
nervous energy; it cannot therefore be expected that a sick 
or weary child can show much activity of attention even for a 
usually interesting topic Again, when there is a feeling of 
discomfort (or very often something worse) arising from bad 
lighting, heating, ventilation, seating, etc., it is extremely difficult 
to arouse the attention of the child and keep it fixed in a. 
definite direction, (c) The unifying aspect of attention must 
also be kept in mind. To present too many subjects in suc- 
cession, to use too many illustrations, too many explanations, 
to hurry from one point to another is a successful mode of 
producing the habit of mind-wandering, (d) Again, since the 
young mind is apt to connect things occurring at the same time, 
whether they should be united or not, great pains must be 
taken to select just the points which are important, and to 
present them in their proper relation, (e) Finally, it may be 
mentioned that while questioning has a certain justification as a 
necessary means of reaching important ends in education, its 
chief justification is in its power of arousing attention and 



ASSOCIATION. 37 

keeping it rightly directed. A question is a challenge to 
attention. And, while disconnected, mechanical, unprepared 
questions gradually weaken what power of attention originally 
exists, orderly, progressive and suggestive questions infallibly 
strengthen it. The chief thing to be aimed at, in fact, is to 
cultivate in the pupil the habit of asking himself questions. 
This ensured, the power of holding and controlling attention 
from within (voluntary attention in other words) is secured. 
With the remark, therefore, that the end of the training of non- 
voluntary attention is to lead up to voluntary attention, we 
may leave this subject. 

§2. ASSOCIATION. 

What is meant by Succession of Ideas. — It has 

already been stated, that Association is the means by which a 
successive train of ideas arises. But, by succession, is not 
meant simply that presentations follow after one another. 
Successive acts of attention would produce a succession of 
ideas, on the principle already explained, that each act of at- 
tention results in a distinct idea. What is meant, is rather that 
there grows out of some presentation or idea, another idea, 
and out of this a third, and so on, the whole process going on 
without the intervention of any new presentation. This is 
generally called the association of ideas. A standard illustra- 
tion is that of Hobbes, (born 1588) one of the first to call 
attention to the subject. In a company, when the conversa- 
tion turned upon the subject of the civil war in England 
between the Stuarts and the Puritans, some one asked the 
value of a Roman Denarius. This question, he says, appeared 
abrupt, but upon reflection, he traced the , following thread of 
associations : Civil war, the king, the treachery of those who 
surrendered him, the treachery of Judas Iscariot, the sum of 
money received, its value. We shall take up : First, the con- 
ditions of Association ; second, its varieties ; and third, its 
results. 



38 PSYCHICAL PROCESSES. 

(1) Conditions of Association. — Why is it that ideas enter 
into successive trains, each suggesting the next ? The answer 
in a general way is that ideas which have been once connected 
together have the power of calling one another up. Association 
is thus seen to depend upon non-voluntary attention. In the 
latter, as we have learned, as many parts as possible are made 
one. Now, if one of these parts is presented, there is a 
tendency for it to complete itself by suggesting the parts not 
actually presented. These parts are said to be re-presented. 
Suppose, to take a very simple example, that I have heard 
a celebrated orator deliver a speech ; by my acts of attention 
at the time, the speech and the speaker became indissolubly 
united into one idea. Now, years afterward, I read this ora- 
tion and there recurs to my mind the idea of the speaker as he 
delivered it- The reason is evident ; the speech is not an inde- 
pendent idea in my mind ; it is only one part of a larger idea, 
and it completes itself by suggesting its other member. 

Integration and Red-integration. —The two acts of presentation and 
of representation are sometimes called integration and red-integration. 
The term integration signifies as the etymology implies, that the original 
presentation was a whole formed out of parts ; red-integration is a second 
act of integration based upon the first. Thus, when the sight of a flower 
recalls the place where it was picked, when the perception of some token 
suggests the person who gave it, when a Latin word calls up its English 
equivalent — in all these cases we have instances of one part of a whole idea 
completing itself by calling up the part with which it was formerly connect- 
ed. It may be said, therefore, that the conditions of association are, first, 
original union in one idea by an act of attention, and second, the occurrence 
of one part of this idea, which then completes itself by calling up the other 
parts. 

2. Varieties of Association. — There are two kinds of associ- 
ation, know as association by the principle of contiguity, and by 
the principle of similarity. They are also known as external 
and internal association. By the principle of continuity is 
meant that whatever ideas or objects have been conjoined in 
space or in time have the power of redintegrating one another. 



ASSOCIATION. 39 

In other words, objects existing by the side of one another, 
events following one another, will become so associated that 
one calls up another. By similarity is meant that whatever 
ideas or objects are like one another, whether this likeness be 
in appearance, in meaning, in mode of use, in sound, or in any 
other respect, have the power of recalling one another. 

Examples Of Contiguity. — An instance of contiguity 
in space is the following : If I think of the post office, I may 
be lead to think of the adjoining building, this may suggest 
the next and so on. Were 1 sufficiently familiar with the whole 
city, this process of suggestion might go on till I had called 
before me all its buildings. Contiguity in time is illustrated by 
the fact that a note of music will suggest a bar, the bar the air, 
the air the entire tune, etc. One letter of an alphabet suggests 
the next and so on; a line of a familiar poem suggests the 
succeeding line, this the next until the whole poem is repeated. 
We think of something that occurred yesterday, and at once 
there arises in succession the entire day's doings. A visiting 
friend once asked a little Irish boy his age he replied, "I was 
seven years old, the day the pig died ; " evidently what to him 
were two important events had been associated because they 
had occurred at the same time. 

Examples of Similarity. — Seeing a portrait calls up 
the original. One face suggests another which it resembles. 
The apple-blossom calls up the rose ; the locust flower the pea, 
etc. Napoleon the Great may suggest Julius Csesar; while 
Cicero calls up Demosthenes. The idea of a straight line may 
suggest rectitude; a hammer call up a hatchet. The word 
frater will call up the words Bruder and brother, etc. In some 
of these cases, there is similarity in appearance, in others, of 
meaning, or use, or sound, or of mere analogy. No limits can 
be put to the use of the principle. Wherever there is perceived 
to be the slightest similarity between two ideas, then one idea 
has the power of summoning the other into consciousness. 



40 PSYCHICAL PROCESSES. 

Association by Contrast. — A remarkable extension of 

the principle of similarity is seen in the fact that opposites call 
each other up ; so vice suggests virtue, night day, joy sorrow, 
a dwarf a giant, a valley a mountain, etc., etc. It may seem 
absurd to call this mutual suggestion of each other by opposites 
a case of similarity, but such it clearly is. Vice and virtue are 
simply the extremes of moral conduct, night and day of the 
whole astronomical day, dwarf and giant of human stature, etc 
That is, there is a common underlying basis, and the contrast 
only emphasizes this identity of basis. 

External and Internal Association. — As already mentioned, 

association by continuity is sometimes called external, that by similarity 
internal. The reason is as follows. In contiguous association both the 
suggesting and the suggested idea have been parts of one idea, but the bond 
of union was an external one, i.e., it did not arise from any essential con- 
nection between them. When, e.g., a certain idea brings into consciousness 
the place in the page where first I read it, the idea and place are connected, 
but only outwardly. Each would be unchanged if this connection had not 
occurred. The union does not affect the internal structure of either. Not 
so in association by similarity. When the sight of a portrait is followed in 
consciousness by the idea of its original, the bond of union is just the 
internal quality of likeness, and without this quality, neither the face nor 
its copy would be what it is. The connecting tie enters therefore into the 
very make-up of the ideas. 

3. Results of Association. — Mental Order and Free- 
dom. — The first result has already been remarked upon. It 
is the formation of a train of ideas, each member of which grows 
from the preceding member by some rule. Continuity, sequence, 
some semblance, at least, of order and of regularity thus come 
into psychical life. Ideas are no longer isolated, but shaped 
into sequences having some common bearing, some unity. 
While in non-voluntary attention the mind is always called into 
action from without and thus is subject to whatever is presented, 
in associatio?i, the mind forms a series of ideas from within. 
The succession of ideas does not depend any longer upon the 
order in which external objects affect us, but upon the internal 



ASSOCIATION. 41 

train of suggestion. It may fairly be said, therefore, that 
another result of association is to free the mind from bondage 
to its sensations, impulses, etc., and to allow it a certain inde- 
pendence of its own. 

Superiority of Association by Similarity. — Associ- 
ation based upon internal similarity assists the development of 
mental power and freedom much more than that based upon 
accidental conjunction in space or time. One might associate 
for example, a dog with a wolf because he had seen both 
together, or because their pictures or names had been conjoined 
in a book. Or, he might associate them because of some 
common principle which he recognized to be involved in the 
structure of both. It is evident that in the first case (associ- 
ation by contiguity) there is no reason in the association ; it 
might just as well have happened between other ideas ; while in 
the latter case (association by similarity) there is meaning in the 
association and it may lead to something beyond itself — to a 
scientific comprehension of the relation of the two animals. 
Similarly an historical event may be associated with some 
part of a page or chart (spatial contiguity) or it may be associ- 
ated with other events of a like kind. The former association 
has no significance the latter stimulates the mind to reflect and 
possibly to discover some historical law. 

Formation of Habits.— The point made thus far is that 
the occurrence of an association tends to give the mind an oi-der 
and freedom in its ideas and activities independent of the sense- 
impressions which are constantly beating upon consciousness. 
This is especially true if an association of ideas or actions is so 
often repeated that a habit is formed. By a habit is meant such 
a thoroughly formed train of associations that if one member of 
the train comes into consciousness the other members follow almost 
inevitably, and without any intervention on the part of will or of 
consciousness. For example, we now have the habit of standing 
erect and of walking. We do not need to pay careful attention 



42 PSYCHICAL PROCESSES. 

to every detail and stage of the complex movements involved 
in these acts. It is enough that we begin the movement, the 
rest goes on of itself. But it was not always so. One need 
only watch a young child learning to walk in order to see that 
he has to form the associations between all successive move- 
ments of his muscles ; that he has to repeat these successive 
associations carefully and an indefinite number of times. But 
these associations repeated often enough make habit, and the 
once difficult acts are performed automatically, i.e., without the 
special intervention of the will. 

Active and Passive Habits. — Habits are distinguished 
as active and as passive. By passive habit is meant simply 
that we are habituated or accustomed to anything. It implies 
no more than ability to hold our own so that we are not con- 
quered by external impressions or activities. Active habit is 
more than this. It implies ability to react against the external 
impression, to make it of use to ourselves. It is skill, capacity, 
trained ability in some direction. Passive habit is illustrated 
by the binding force of a custom upon us ; active habit, by the 
dexterity, quickness and accuracy of a well-trained mechanic. 

Function of Habit. — Habit serves a two-fold purpose in 
mental life. In the first place, it forms a psychical mechanism 
or piece of machinery by means of which the soul both holds its 
own and asserts itself against the pressure of surrounding cir- 
cumstances ; and, in the second place, it allows the Intelligence 
and the Will time and opportunity to apply themselves to the 
mastery of new and higher acts. 

First End. — In the early period of psychical existence, 
the mind is at the mercy of its impressions. It can understand 
nothing of its surroundings, and can execute no purposes, 
indeed, it is not capable of forming purposes. It is the forma- 
tion of habits more than anything else that lifts the infant from 
this state of subjection. If he forms an intellectual habit — 
say that of noticing the circumstances under which his food is 



ASSOCIATION. 43 

given him — there is at least one respect in which he stands 
above the chaos which in other regards overpowers him. If 
he forms a habit of will— say of walking, of controlling the 
movements of his hands, of putting sounds together into arti- 
culate speech — he is in these respects, the master of his impulses 
instead of being mastered by them. 

Habit is Self-Control.— A habit, in other words, is a 
mode of self-control in some definite direction. It is, as is often 
said, second nature, that is, it is a mode of self-control so 
thoroughly acquired that it asserts itself spontaneously and with- 
out effort whenever there is any occasion for its use. It is by 
habit that the body becomes a fit and accurate instrument for 
the soul. It is through habit that the soul impresses itself upon 
the body, and trains it into a servant which is ever working for 
useful ends, without waiting for special instructions from its 
master. Thus, when the mind is thinking about other things, 
the required act is still executed — as when one talks, or walks, 
or reads, or plays a musical instrument, while occupied with 
some problem. The influence of habit is seen most clearly in 
the capacity of the body to perform certain complicated acts 
without any direction from the mind except in initiating the 
process, but there are also purely mental habits — ways of think- 
ing or of feeling, as we ordinarily call them. The artist has one 
mental habit, the scientific man another, the teacher another, 
the statesman another, and so on. Each has certain kinds of 
mental trains into which the mind falls naturally and spontan- 
eously and in which it is little or no effort to keep thinking, 
because the lines of association are so well established. 

Second End. — If, as suggested, a habit may be fairly said 
to execute itself, requiring intelligence and will merely to start 
it, then clearly, the formation of habits relieves the mind from 
the necessity of any supervision of such actions and leaves it 
free to devote itself to other matters. For example, when a 
child is learning to walk (that is, when he is forming an associ- 



44 EDUCATIONAL PRINCIPLES. 

ation between certain impulses) he must give his entire mind to 
it; his mental processes cannot occupy themselves with anything 
else. But the habit once formed, it seems to be taken entirely 
out of the mental sphere ; the mind can think of other things 
as much as if the walking were not going on at all ; and so with 
every other habit in the degree of its perfection. If one counts 
the time given to purely mechanical acts, like dressing, eating, 
walking, the articulation of sounds, etc., and then supposes that 
the mind had to give itself specially to such acts - to the ex- 
clusion of all else — one can see what a boon to us is the power 
of forming habits which regulate themselves. 

Educational Principles. — Following the idea origin- 
ally laid down that the teacher's work is to assist and regulate 
the normal psychical processes of the learner's mind, it is 
evident that the associative activities demand the closest atten- 
tion and wisest care of the educator. Their use is fundamental 
in evtry stage of mental growth and hence they may be helpfully 
discussed with reference to their employment in three stages, 
the primary, the secondary and the higher. 

i. The First Stage is Mechanical. — It should be kept in mind 
by the teacher that in the earlier years it is chiefly the mechanical 
aspects of association that come into play. That is to say, the 
association is made, for the most part, by the mind acting as a 
machine would act, without consciousness of any reason for 
making the association, while the result is mainly to give the 
mind a machine-like power of performing the same operation 
in the future. The child who learns to read, for example, can 
have no clear conception of what he is really doing, of the 
mental processes called into activity, or of the ultimate value 
of what he is acquiring. From his standpoint, there is merely 
a mechanical putting together or associating of words, sentences, 
etc., And of course, the result is not, at this stage, the truly 
culturing effect that comes from later reading ; it is simply the 



fetotJCATlONAL PRINCIPLES. 45 

acquisition of a new capacity or habit, making it more easy to 
form similar associations in the future. 

2. Repetition the Principle of the Mechanical Stage. — The 
mechanism, the capacity for performing the act spontaneously 
and without effort, is built up through repetition. There is 
in primary education absolutely no substitute for going over a 
thing again and again. The processes of ideal assimilation, 
much more those of rational comprehension, are undeveloped. 
The principal way of appeal to the mind is, therefore, the 
systematic repetition of an association, of a connection of facts, 
ideas or words, until a capacity, a habit is acquired in this 
direction. There is one dictum of modern pedagogy which, 
under proper limitations, finds its application here : Learn to 
do by doing. This principle is by no means co-extensive with 
the whole of education, and is in fact much abused by some 
educational "reformers," but it is the basis of all early training. 
Reading can be learned only by reading; spelling only by 
spelling ; writing only by writing:; the fundamental operations 
of number only by performing them, and so on. The teacher 
must aim, therefore, at thoroughness and continuity of repetition, 
and while having constantly in view the dawning intelligence of 
the child, must avoid undue reliance upon the rationale of the 
subject-matter, and undue appeal to a reason as yet undeveloped. 

3. Discipline the Object of the Mechanical Stage. — The teacher 
must remember, however, that no piece of machinery has its 
end-in-itself ; its value is in what it can do. To make even 
early mental training purely mechanical is as if a weaver were to 
regard it as his sole business to keep his loom in motion wholly 
irrespective of making any cloth. While the process of 
early education must be largely mechanical, its spirit must be 
intelligent and rational. There is a temptation in the practical 
work of teaching to forget this, and to allow the whole work to 
become one of dead routine. How shall the teacher avoid this 
and yet not make premature appeal to an immature reason ? 



46 PSYCHtCAL PROCESSES. 

By remembering that the end of the mechanical training is 

discipline. 

What is Meant by Discipline- — Discipline, like habit, has its active 
and its passive side. It aims to make the mind at once capable of resistance 
and capable of positive effort. A mind is disciplined just in the degree in 
which it can hold its own against both the pressure and the distracting soli- 
citations of sensations and impulses, and in the degree in which it has the 
power of systematically acting upon them, so as to shape them for its own 
ends. The effect of discipline, in short, is to give the mind the capacity of 
acting steadily, easily and efficiently to the accomplishment of some definit e 
work, while at the same time it gives power to act tn new aud tintried ways % 
The object of teaching elementary arithmetic, for example, is to give ability 
to ascertain the simpler relations of number easily, quickly and accurately, 
and at the same time, to enable the mind to act with greater strength and 
efficiency in all directions. Now, if this end is kept in mind, there is no 
danger that a mechanical spirit will pervade the teaching, no matter how 
mechanical the processes in themselves. 

4. Learn to do by Knowing. — It may be well to warn the 
teacher against the present tendency to misapply the maxim 
quoted in the foregoing paragraph — "learn to do by doing.' 
It is true under certain conditions and is chiefly applicable in 
the primary stage of learning, but there have arisen educa- 
tional evangelists who preach it as a universal principle. And 
thus, what is but a partial truth even in primary education, be- 
comes a positive error in advanced stages. " Learn to speak 
by speaking" — therefore no formal grammar.. "Learn to 
cypher by cyphering " — therefore, no science of arithmetic. 
" Learn to teach by teaching " — therefore no science of educa- 
tion and no professional training of teachers, and so on 
through a long list of " practical" inferences, which are plainly 
at variance with a sound philosophy of education. " Let eye, 
and ear, and hand, be thoroughly trained," by all means ; but 
is there not Something behind these organs that makes the 
seeing eye, the hearing ear and the forming hand ? Is the pro- 
cess from without inward — first the hand, then the brain, then the 
mind? Or is it from within outward — mind, brain, hand? Even m 



EDUCATIONAL PRINCIPLES. 47 

the elementary work of what we have called the mechanical 
stage, thinking precedes doing ; in writing, for example, the child 
must have an idea of the form of a letter before the hand can 
reproduce it. It may be true that the making of the outward 
forms aids the mind to more definite conceptions ; but from 
the elementary to the highest stages, the ideal is before the 
actual. " In aiming at a new construction," says Professor 
Bain, " we must clearly conceive what is aimed at." And so, as 
we have already intimated, the teacher must constantly keep in 
view the growing intelligence of the child, helping him to form 
clear ideas of the new " constructions " aimed at, and teaching 
him how these constructions — manual or otherwise — can be 
mastered with the least waste of power. " Where we have a 
very distinct and intelligible model before us, we are in a fair 
way to succeed : in proportion as the ideal is dim and wavering, 
we stagger and miscarry." It appears, then, that the maxim, 
"learn to do by doing," is, after all, but the complement of a 
wider and profounder principle learn to do by knowing. 

5. The Secondary Stage is one of Forming Connections. — 
While in the primary stage of reading (for example) there is 
rather association of the activities involved in reading than of 
the ideas read, in the secondary stage there is obvious and con- 
scious connection of ideas. This is what constitutes "learning 
lessons " in the* narrower sense of that term. When a pupil 
sets himself to learn a geography or history lesson so as to be 
able to recite upon it, he is intentionally forming certain con- 
nections of ideas. The work of teaching now changes its 
aspect somewhat and the main emphasis should be put upon pre- 
senting the proper connections of ideas, and upon assisting the 
pupil to re-make them in his own mind. 

6. The Associations in this Stage may be Sensuous or Ideal. 
— As a pupil studies his lessons he may be forming associations 
of either of two kinds. He may connect the successive visible 



4$ PSYCHICAL PROCESSES. 

appearances of the words, or their successive sounds. This 
is sensuous association, since it is only the auditory or visual 
sensations that are thus formed into a series. Or, he may 
connect the ideas conveyed by the sights and sounds ; this is 
ideal association. Of course it is almost impossible to form one 
kind of association without somewhat of the other also. Idiots 
have been known to learn pages of matter in a language of 
which they knew nothing, but no child of ordinary intelligence 
could form such a string of purely sensuous associations. On 
the other hand, one would hardly remember the ideas of a 
book which one had read without some knowledge of the look 
and sound of the successive sentences. 

7. Sensuous Associations should be Subsidiary. — When a 
teacher compels pupils to recite lessons verbatim and calls 
upon one to stop in the middle of a sentence and the next to 
take it up at that point, he is doing his utmost to induce the 
pupil to form only sensuous associations. In such cases there 
is no proper activity of intelligence, and this fact alone con- 
demns the method. Children's sense-organs are exceed- 
ingly sensitive ; they are plastic to mere sights and sounds, 
apart from what they mean, in a way that can be rivalled by 
no adult. The teacher should, of course, appeal to this ready 
receptiveness of sense, but it should be used only as an instru- 
ment or organ for forming connections between ideas. 

8. " Teach only What is Understood." — It is in this second stage of 
the development of association that the precept " A child should learn only 
what he understands " has its application. In the earlier, mechanical stage, 
it cannot be said to be true at all ; and in this second stage, its true mean- 
ing should be carefully noted. It does not mean what it literally says : 
that a child should learn only what he comprehends. To understand implies 
to know scientifically ; to grasp the relations of a subj ect, and it is absurd 
to demand this of one whose reason is yet undeveloped. In fact, the learn- 
ing of a very large number of facts whose relations are not understood is the 
sole condition of understanding them at a later time. What the dictum 
really means is that the pupil should learn only that which has some mean- 



EDUCATIONAL PRINCIPLES. 49 

Mg-— which appeals to him, which conveys something to him. It means 
that he should connect ideas, the significance of things, rather than asso- 
ciate meaningless sounds or sights. When a child learns, for example, that 
arithmetic is " the science of the relations of numbers," it is impossible that 
he should fully understand what this means. But it is possible that the 
definition should be something more then a mere association of words — 
that it should carry some significance with it. And this it does, if there be 
associations of ideas, instead of sounds or of sights alone. 

9. Importance of Habit. — The teacher can hardly exaggerate 
the importance of the law of habit. Rousseau's saying " iWle 
must be allowed to learn no habits save that of having none," 
is substantially false as a general principle of education. It is 
much nearer the truth to say that education consists in the forma- 
tion of good habits — good habits of body and of mind. The 
first act, mental or bodily is the starting point of habit ; it leaves 
a tendency or disposition to recur, so that the second act is 
easier than the first, the third easier then the second, and so on, 
till the performance of the -act becomes a seeond nature. In 
other words the power and tendency to follow any course of action 
are measured by the frequency with which the acts involved have 
been repeated. This law, from which there is no escape, works in 
all education — intellectual, moral, physical, and it works with 
special power during the impressionable period of childhood. 
Assuming that the teacher is possessed of a living personality, 
that in his little kingdom those great psychic forces, sympathy 
and imitation, hold sway, it seems impossible to unduly exalt 
the greatness of his work. Such a man will teach not by 
precept alone, nor by example alone, but also by action : lazi- 
ness, fickleness, disorder, uncouthness, slovenliness, irreverence, 
etc., are not to be found in his pupils because they are not to be 
found in him. On the other hand, dilligence, neatness, cleanli- 
ness, order, politness, self-sacrifice, etc., become habits with the 
pupils, because they are habits of the teacher. 

10. The Third Stage is One of Culture. — As the first stage is 
one of discipline, and the second of learning in the narrower 

D 



5<> PSYCHICAL PROCESSES. 

sense of the word, the third is one of culture. Associations are 
formed on the principle of similarity, and thus ideas are 
grouped about a common centre. The tie in the case of associ- 
ation by similarity is natural and intrinsic. While ideas associ- 
ated by contiguity may be in themselves so foreign to each other 
as to require a constant effort of mind to hold them together, 
ideas united by similarity naturally grow into each other and 
strengthen the mind. Ideas externally associated have been 
compared to a bundle oi food strapped upon the back; ideas 
internally associated to food eaten and digested, and wrought 
over into blood, bones and muscles ; the one may be a strain 
upon mental fibre, the other adds to it. Rational comprehen- 
sion grows naturally from the habit of forming associations by 
similarity ; the common principle constantly gains in distinctness 
and is finally seen in its relations to all the facts united by it 

Note. — Further upon Association, see Dewey's Psychology, pp. 90-117. 

§3. VOLUNTARY ATTENTION. 

Relations to Non- Voluntary. — Voluntary attention is 
based upon non-voluntary, but differs from it as a mental 
movement directed with fixed purpose to attaining some future 
end, differs from one which moves here and there stimulated 
simply by the chance attraction of the moment. For 
example, we may suppose a botanist's attention called spon- 
taneously to a flower by its vivid colouring. He may be attracted 
the next moment to the contrasting colour of the foliage, and 
so on. Or, he may observe something peculiar — say an appa- 
ratus for catching insects. Now he has an end in view. He 
will examine the plant scientifically to see the mechanism and 
its mode of operation. He observes the structure of the 
flower ; compares it with others of the same genus ; with other 
plants that attract insects. He notices the insects that are 
already caught and speculates upon the mode and purpose of 
their capture. He sets himself to watch the plant and see the 



Voluntary attention. 51 

exact method by which some insect is entangled. Non-volun 
tary attention has passed into voluntary ; he no longer notices 
because of some attractive trait in the flower, but because of 
some end he wishes to reach, something which he desires to 
find out. Voluntary attention, in other words, is directed in 
its movements with a view to getting at something, with refer- 
ence to an end, while non-voluntary is based upon agreeable 
qualities of the presentation. 

Relation to Association. — Voluntary attention can 
create no new material. It can deal only with the presenta- 
tions afforded by non-voluntary attention and the representa- 
tions given by association. But while association by itself 
goes on at hap hazard, one idea suggesting another according 
to any accidental bond of contiguity or of similarity, voluntary 
attention lays hold of this train and manipulates, controls it for 
its own end. It compels the train in one direction ; it shuts 
off all suggested ideas which do not appear to lead towards 
the desired end. Ideas which the mind feels to be helpful 
towards the end are selected and emphasized. Association 
passes into voluntary attention when the ideas that form the 
train suggest one another not by any accidental bond, but by 
some fundamental characteristic, some unity which gives them 
a common bearing and end. 

Example. — Take again the botanist who has noticed the 
apparatus for catching insects. Following association alone he 
might then think of some former time when he had seen a 
similar plant ; then of the swamp where he saw it ; then of 
some luxuriant marsh in South America ; then of the wonderful 
vegetation of the carboniferous era ; then of the making of 
coal ; then of the present price of coal, and so on till he had 
thought of any number of topics apparently disconnected, yet 
each naturally growing out of the preceding. Thus one often 
finds himself wondering how he comes to be thinking of some- 



5* PSYCHICAL PROCESSES. 

thing so foreign to what his mind was occupied with a few 
minutes before. The train of associations has led him on. 
But voluntary attention prevents a succession of ideas having 
no common significance. It keeps the suggested ideas of our 
botanist, e.g. in harmony with the end desired — knowledge of the 
structure of such an apparatus, and of the process of its de- 
velopment. Voluntary attention is a train of associations con- 
fined to some cAam/el leading up to an unified result. 

Early Forms of Voluntary Attention. — Voluntary 
attention arises as soon as the mind becomes capable of forming 
the conception of an end which it finds interesting. Ideas no 
longer come and go at random, but with reference to this end- 
At first, voluntary attention is simply attraction of the mind by 
a remote instead of a, present interest. For example, a boy forms 
the idea of making a kite. As soon as he has this idea, his 
thoughts and activities at once get a certain unity. They are 
controlled by the end which he desires to reach, and the end 
suffices of itself to suggest those ideas which lead to it, and to 
expel others. So, too, a boy may wish to find how a story "turns 
out," and the interest in this end will keep his mental processes 
engaged in reading, while otherwise they would be straying here 
and there. There is simply an extension of non-voluntary 
attention by interest in some future occurrences. 

Higher Forms. — But cases occur in which the end inter- 
ests but yet does not suffice of itself to control the train of 
ideas. The boy, for example, who has made a kite, afterwards 
sets himself to making a steam-engine. Here the matter is so 
complicated that the intermediate steps must be separately 
studied and their relations to one another and to the whole, made 
out. The end is forgotten for the time being, and attention is 
given to all the steps leading up to it. So with a pupil solving 
a problem in algebra. While the whole process is directed with 
a view to reaching the end (finding the value of x), yet it is the 



VOLUNTARY ATTENTION. 53 

successive operations to be gone through that absorb attention. 
In the earlier stages the end "takes care of itself," so to 
speak; the mind need only be fixed upon the end and the 
means to it naturally suggest themselves. But in the higher 
forms, the laborious concentration of attention upon each step 
is required. As the power of attention grows, the end becomes 
more and more comprehensive until it requires the cooperation 
of almost every process of the intellectual life. Thus we may 
imagine Newton's attention to have been absorbed while he 
was engaged with the discovery of the law of gravitation. 

Activities Involved in Attention. — Attention may, 
therefore, be defined as a move?7ient of ideas unified and controll- 
ed by the conception of some end. There are various activities 
involved in this movement, of which three may be particularly 
mentioned. Attention is (i) an adjusting, (2) a selecting and 
(3) a relating activity. 

1. Attention as Adjusting Activity. — In association the mind 
is, in one sense, passive. It seems to be a spectator before 
whom ideas come and go. Its extreme form is reverie; the 
mind drifts on from one topic to another. If we ask why this 
happens, we see that it is because the mind lets ideas take their 
course. It is not filled before-hand with some idea by which 
it tests, and with reference to which it directs, other ideas. But 
in attention, the mind comes to the train of ideas prepared. It 
is not indifferent ; it is hardly impartial. It has a controlling 
and compelling interest in a given direction. It has a predis- 
position, a trend, in favor of certain ideas. Hence it is watch- 
ful, alert for everything favouring these ideas, while everything 
not connected with this interest is passed over. 

Illustration. — By way of illustration, consider a biologist 
engaged in studying the life history of an animal under a 
microscope. He cannot allow his mind to follow up any train 



54 PSYCHICAL PROCESSES. 

of ideas that suggests itself ; he must be indifferent to all sights 
and sounds unconnected with the animal observed. He must 
notice the slightest change there; must connect this with what 
goes before, and what comes after. It is evident, therefore, that 
whatever corresponding ideas he has already in mind must be 
held prepared, even in tension, to go out and meet whatever 
corresponds to them in the object. The mind at-tends, is 
stretched towards what is coming, to anticipate it, to meet it 
more than half-way. Hence the fatigue accompanying any 
prolonged activity of attention. Ideas are not allowed to 
follow their own course; but a certain group of ideas must be 
held to the front by a special mental effort, to react on the new 
presentations. 

Why Called Adjusting? — It is clear, therefore, why 
the activity is called an adjusting one. An empty mind cannot 
attend to anything ; a mind empty in a given direction can- 
not attend in that direction. It must have some idea, however 
vague and general, of what is coming, of what is to be looked 
for. The more a mind knows of a certain subject, the 
more quickly and accurately it can pay attention to anything 
new in that subject. Attention is thus the bringing to bear, 
the adjusting, of what already is in the mind, to the presenta- 
tion without. Attention is not the fixing of the mind in general 
but the fixing of a dejinite group of ideas upon presentations 
having points of community with the group. The adjusting power 
of attention consists in getting to the foreground of the mind and 
holding there, those ideas allied to the object-matter attended to. 
A pupil attends to a problem in arithmetic only as he brings 
to the foreground of consciousness that knowledge of numbers 
which he already possesses, and applies it to the new case. 

Illustration, — The nature of mental life may be illus- 
trated as follows : An individual is in a dark room with which 
he is unacquainted. This room is lighted up at brief intervals 



VOLUNTARY ATTENTION. 



55 



by an electric spark. Now, previous to the first illumination 
there can be no preparatory activity of the mind. It does not 
know what to look for, and hence cannot get ready. But at the 
first spark, it obtains some dim idea of the room, and this makes a 
basis for attention at the second lighting up. Being slightly 
prepared, it now sees more in the second flash. This gives 
greater power to adjust the next time, and so on. Finally, some 
flash, though not lasting any longer than the first flash during 
which nothing was seen, reveals almost the entire contents 
of the room. In other words, the more perfectly the mind can 
make a preparatory adjustment of its internal ideas to the out- 
ward presentation, the better it can attend, and, of course, the 
more it can become conscious of. 

Attention and Past Experience.— It is furthermore evident that 

the power of voluntary attention in any direction depends largely upon 
past experience in that direction. We cannot bring ideas to bear, cannot 
form adjustments, where we have no ideas. In every fact learned, in every 
process of knowing, therefore, we are deciding our future knowledge as 
well as our present, for we are deciding in what directions we may be able 
to form adjustments, to pay attention. The difference between a child and 
a man, between an uncultured and an educated man, is largely that one 
has definite groups of ideas, or instruments of adjustment, ready to bring to 
bear upon presentations, while the other has not. 

2. Attention as Selecting Activity. — Thus far we have been 
considering the attitude of the mind in attention ; the pre- 
paration necessary in order to give attention. Now we shall 
suppose that adjustment has been secured, and ask what is 
the effect upon the subject-matter attended to. The primary 
effect is selective. The mind emphasizes and slurs, brightens 
and dims, according to the end it wishes to reach. Attention 
has the same effect upon any mental content that a lens has 
upon light: the point focussed stands out with brilliancy, while 
the surroundings are dull and indistinct. Attention, as adjust- 
ment, has been called " asking questions of the future," and the 
question once asked, the mind must select material fitted to 
answer it. 



56 PSYCHICAL PROCESSES. 

Basis Of Selection. — The mind when attending is in a 

cross-examining attitude. It does not take presentations as they 
come, but inquires into their value, and makes use of them ac- 
cordingly. The basis on which some are chosen and others are 
rejected is the end in view and the interest the mind takes in it. 
A flower will produce the same sensations in the mind of an 
artist, a farmer and a man of science ; but the artist will notice 
the qualities that make for beauty, the farmer's attention will 
select those that refer to use, that seem to testify to a weed or 
to a useful plant, while the botanist may neglect both use and 
beauty in an examination of the scientific relations of the 
flower. In a certain sense, no two of them see the same flower. 
One perceives, or selects, one thing, and this is invisible to the 
others who neglect it. And in any case, it is the end which 
the mind wishes to reach, the prevailing interest which it brings 
with it, that decides the selection. 

Variable and Permanent Ends of Selection.— 

Different persons and different classes of persons, since they 
have different occupations and interests in life, will, as just 
illustrated, select varying things. But all minds, since they are 
minds, have a common interest in knowledge, and a common 
end in noticing these universal features, at least, without which 
there would be no knowledge. Thus we may suppose a 
thousand persons reading a book and each underlining what 
especially strikes him. A large number of the passages under- 
lined would vary according to the various ages, tastes, stages of 
culture, etc., ot the readers. But there might be a number of 
passages in the book which would appeal to all, and which all 
would emphasize. So with the book which the world presents 
to be read by every mind. 

The Law of Common Selection. — While no rule can be laid down 
for the selective activity when it varies, excepting that it follows the pre- 
vailing interest whatever that may be, there is a law for the selections in 
which minds agree. The mind always sheets those sensations and imptlses 



VOLUNTARY ATTENTION. 57 

that are signs of something else ; that point to something beyond themselves. 
Elements having no meaning outside .their . own occurrence, are neglected. 
For example, although muscular sensations are of great importance to us, 
we are never conscious of them in themselves, unless it be when we are 
tired. We notice only what the sensations are signs of — what they signify 
We move the hand through the air and are not conscious of the muscular 
strain, but only of the space which is measured by it. There are instances 
of persons who became blind in one eye and yet did not know it for 
years. Their knowledge of objects, of what the sensatio'ns pointed to, 
being unchanged, they never noticed the change in the sensations them- 
selves. Each of us has a multitude of sensations which he neglects en- 
tirely either because they have no reference to objects, or because this 
reference is so much more important than the sensations, that he attends to 
that alone. 

j. Attention as Relating Activity. — As we have previously- 
noticed, ideas may be connected externally or internally, i.e., be- 
cause they occur at the same time or because there is something 
in their meaning which connects them. The relations which 
form the internal connection are those of similarity and con- 
trast. And it is the chief characteristic of voluntary attention 
that it aims at penetrating below the accidental, superficial, con- 
nections of ideas, and at discovering the hidden relations which 
unite and which distinguish them. Ordinary experience, 
chance contact with objects, presents us with no arrangement, 
no classification. Objects might forever thrust themselves 
upon the mind, and if the mind did not react upon them with 
the idea of a system according to which they might be grouped, a 
system based upon points of internal likeness and difference, 
experience would remain an accidental juxtaposition of ideas, 
without true order or law. 

Example. — If we depended simply upon the order in 
which our ideas present themselves or suggest one another, 
what kind of Zoology, for example, should we have ? It would 
consist simply of a continuous description of animals taken in 
3.ny chance order of arrangement, with no law of subordina- 



58 PSYCHICAL PROCESSES. 

tion and co-ordination, no principle of classification. Asso- 
ciation by similarity would suffice, doubtless, to give some larger 
divisions — birds, insects, quadrupeds, etc., might fall into 
groups by themselves. But here, without further action of 
voluntary attention, there would be no standard which could be 
used to test even such a rough classification ; bats would be 
called birds, and whales fishes. Finer classification and 
knowledge of the relations of various groups would be almost 
wholly lacking. For zoological classification consists in this, 
that we examine into our presentations instead of taking them 
just as they come, that we search for some hidden unity, some 
common principle or cause among facts the most diverse in ap- 
pearance, and then, in accordance with this principle, rearrange 
the accidental connections which experience provides. 

Comparison. — This act of voluntary attention by which 
we search for identities and distinctions is termed comparison. 
We compare when we hold two ideas together in the mind, and 
then let our thoughts move from one to the other in order to see 
in what points they agree or differ. It is association, without 
doubt, which originally brings the two ideas together; but 
attention is required to hold the ideas before the mind,, to 
keep them from being displaced by further suggestions, and 
attention, — the idea of an end, and the direction of our thought 
by it — is required to seize upon the points of likeness in apparent 
difference, or of diversity in apparent similarity. Comparison 
holds together and holds apart at the same time ; it unifies and 
it discriminates. 

Unification. — When we say that attention aims at unifiying ideas, it 
must not be thought that two ideas are/used into one. The two ideas still 
remain separate in their existence, it is only their meaning that is identified. 
Both are seen to signify the same thing. Thus the fall of the apple, the 
path of the cannon hall in the air, the revolution of the moon, the rise of 
the tide, facts separate in themselves, are unified by the law of gravitation. 
Voluntary attention, then, sets out with the idea of a law, a relation, a prin< 



VOLUNTARY ATTENTION. 59 

ciple common to different facts, and it controls the flow of ideas with refer- 
ence to this one idea ; it seeks for it everywhere ; it tries this and that 
experience to see if it contains this one idea. Consider, for example, the 
procedure of a scientific man, endeavoring to discover or to verify a law ; it 
is the idea of this law which compels his experiences to assume unity. 

Discrimination. — When speaking of non- voluntary attention, we notic- 
ed that one of its effects is to bring whatever receives attention more clearly 
into consciousness. In voluntary attention we have an extension of the 
same principle. The mind sets itself intentionally to distinguish between 
one object and another, between one feature or quality of the object and 
another property. It is through this process that knowledge ceases to be 
vague, and gains clearness. For example, a child recognizes a tree before 
he recognizes any particular kind of tree. The elm, the oak, the maple, 
are all simply trees to him. But he notices, say, the difference in the leaves 
of two trees ; he then compares the two trees with a view to ascertaining in 
what other respects they differ. Each difference as it is noticed makes 
knowledge of the tree known more distinct, or definite. Thus, also, the 
child begins with a vague idea of meat, which by noticed differences, 
becomes discriminated into ideas of beef, veal, mutton, etc. The undefin- 
ed in every case precedes the distinct, and the vague becomes the definite 
by the activity of attention in fixing upon differences. 

The Goal of Attention. — Through the double act of iden- 
tifying and discriminating, knowledge becomes at once unified 
and definite. While, at first, attention can grasp only a small 
idea, one with few details in it, and these few vague, with grow- 
ing culture it takes in larger and larger wholes, and the details 
of these larger wholes are better and better defined. The mind 
takes in more at one grasp, and the details stand out more 
clearly. For example, a child just learning to read has before 
him a printed page ; the unit of attention is necessarily small ; 
say the single word, or at most the sentence. And the members 
of this unit are not clearly denned ; the child will hardly dis- 
criminate 'mop' from 'map'; 'apply' from 'apple;' or, if he can 
recognize the meaning of a sentence at one act of attention, he 
will no f know the relations of the different parts of the sentence, 
the value of each of its members. But ten years after, he will 
be able to take in a paragraph in one mental act, and at the 



60 EDUCATIONAL PRINCIPLES. 

same time he will have a more definite idea of each of its 
factors, than he had when he was obliged to go through them 
laboriously one at a time. The goal of the development of 
attention is, therefore, ability to %rasp in one act large wholes, 
and at the same time, give distinctness to every part of this whole 
In the degree in which this goal is reached, there is economy 
and facility in the expenditure of mental power. 

Educational Principles. — The work of securing atten- 
tion from any individual pupil is something, of course, which 
depends upon the patience, tact, interest and skill of the 
teacher. But there are certain psychological principles upon 
which he must build either consciously or unconsciously, if even 
his best energies and sympathies are to be of any avail. 

i. Voluntary Attention Demands I., 'sntal Effort. — The train 
of ideas, if left to itself, will go on by the principle of associ- 
ation. And when all successions of ideas are occasioned wholly 
by mere suggestion we have mind-wandering. It requires, 
therefore, a certain mental energy to interfere, as it were, with 
the sequences of association and to control them, to compel 
them to take a certain course. It requires no positive effort or 
training to let the mind wander ; we have simply to allow it to 
follow its own course. This is easy, and so mental laziness 
becomes one of the greatest hindrances of the teacher's work. 
There is a certain strain or stress involved in attention, and 
the student must be awakened from the inertia natural to the 
association of ideas, and made to exercise his mental powers, 
and to assume an active, energetic habit of mind. 

2. Voluntary Attention Demands Unity a?id Permanence of 
Interest. — Dissipation of interest is, next to sheer mental lazi- 
ness, the great foe of attention. Watch an inattentive school- 
boy ; one moment he studies one lesson, the next moment, 
another lesson, then he must write upon his slate, then sharpen 
his pencil, then speak to a fellow-pupil, and so on in a con- 



PSYCHICAL PROCESSES. 6 1 

stantly interrupted round of disconnected doings. There is no 
one and lasting interest which runs through his operations. 
This dissipation of interests results inevitably in discontinuity 
of attention. The pupil may have had good powers of non- 
voluntary attention, that is to say, objects may have attracted 
him readily and kept his attention fixed as long as the attrac- 
tion endured, but if the successive attractions were never 
welded into a series, if they were given no underlying unity, the 
result is necessarily a skipping, jerky, disconnected habit of 
mind. Whatever secures unity of interest in diverse subjects 
works in and of itself to secure continuous attention. 

3. Voluntary Attention demands that there be already in the 
Mind some Store of ideas akin to the Subject to be attejided to. — 
Attention, as we have seen, is not bringing the mind in general, 
that is an empty mind, to bear upon a subject, it is focussing upon 
the subject ideas already had, knowledge already obtained. 
To require a young student, for example, to pay attention to 
abstract statements about the form, position, mode of revolu- 
tion and subdivisions of the earth, without ascertaining whether 
he has any analogous ideas, any acquired knowledge, which may 
serve to fix and interpret the new statements, is to commit a 
pedagogical blunder. A certain superficial attention of the eye 
or the ear may be secured, but no truly mental attention. To 
demand a merely formal attention from a student, that is, to ask 
him to fix his psychical processes in general upon a subject, is 
to demand an impossibility. That there may be real assimila- 
tion, attention must be paid to something in particular, and 
requires the presence in the mind of ideas somewhat similar — 
having some relation to the subject taught. 

4. Voluntary Attention requires that this Store of similar Ideas 
be not latent in the Mind, but Actively brought into Play. It is not 
enough that the mind should have experiences analogous to 
the topic in hand stored away, it must bring them to the surface ; 



02 EDUCATIONAL PRINCIPLES. 

it must have them ready to seize upon whatever is presented. 
If mental effort and unity of interest exist, and yet there is 
failure of attention, it is, nine times out of ten, because this 
preparatory work has not been done. Of course, training in 
holding attention in any subject gives self-control, and makes 
attention easier in other directions, and yet it is, for example, 
no great help when attention is required in historical study, to 
have just been absorbed in mathematics. Indeed, it may be at 
first a hindrance ; the circle of historical ideas must be brought 
to the surface of the mind. Historical conceptions and interests 
must be fresh and active ; then attention — the conjunction of 
the inner mental acquisition with the outer object to be acquired 
— is easily secured. 

5. — Counterfeit Attention. — It follows from this, that there 
may be the outward form and attitude of attention — the 
apparently hearing ear and seeing eye — while the mind is utterly 
out of connection with the subject. There are, also, other 
forms of such spurious attention which are, as already 
intimated, all but equally futile. Some attention may be paid 
to a lesson ; its facts and principles may be severally appre- 
hended while the underlying unity is never grasped. A 
pupil, for example, may give sufficient attention to a reading 
lesson to enable him to understand the separate sentences, 
and yet fail to acquire a clear conception of the lesson as a 
whole ; the higher activity of attention, the relating power 
is wanting ; there are disconnected acts of attention but no 
perception of relations, no unifying power. Similarly, a pupil 
may comprehend each of the successive steps in a demonstra- 
tion and yet fail to master it, through not giving the higher 
power of attention necessary to such mastery. Or, again, a 
student may grasp the connections of the several points of a 
topic and still fail to assimilate the new knowledge with the 
old ; he does not revive and hold in readiness the groups of 
ideas bearing on the subject; he fails in the adjusting power of 



VOLUNTARY ATTENTION. 63 

attention, and the result is neither permanent increase of 
knowledge nor development of mind-function. 

6. Voluntary Attention requires that the Mind move along 
Related or conneded Points. Contradictory as the statement may 
sound, attention can be kept fixed only as it is kept moving. Let 
us suppose that the preceding conditions have been met ; the 
mind is aroused to active effort, it has continuous interest ; it 
has had knowledge of matters analogous to that to be attended 
to, and this knowledge has been stirred up and called to the 
surface. And now the subject is put before the pupil, and he 
is told by the teacher to pay attention. A most lame and im- 
potent conclusion ! The pupil is now waiting and anxious to 
pay attention ; how to pay it is the essential point, and the 
point on which he is too apt to get no help. If he tries to 
keep his mind resting, to keep it literally fixed, one result is 
inevitable : the mind must move in one way or another ; it 
cannot rest without consciousness ceasing; some association 
suggests itself, this suggests another, and so on. So, with the 
firm purpose to pay attention, the pupil finds his mind 
wandering. 

How then shall the attention be kept fixed ? Attention is 
the movement of ideas controlled by the relations of identity 
and difference. The process of paying attention is, therefore, 
one of noticing and discovering these relations. In the early 
stages, this work must, of course, be performed largely by the 
teacher ; he must arrange the material, he must arrange his 
questions so as to make the relations, the connections of a sub- 
ject, prominent. Unimportant and irrelevant features must be 
excluded ; the points of connection must be made salient : 
they must be emphasized and reiterated until the pupil's mind 
forms the habit of following their connections, to the neglect of 
all else. This habit once formed, there grows, almost natur- 
ally and of itself in higher stages, the habit of picking out and 



d\ PSYCHICAL PROCESSES. 

forming the connections without help. When this point is 
reached, no attention need be paid to attention. Attention 
takes care of itself, for this power of observing and creating re- 
lations is Attention. 

7. Further Suggestio?is. — (a) In infancy and childhood 
attention must be secured indirectly, that is, it must be attracted 
by some interest in the subject, or secured by the personality 
of the teacher ; his tact, earnestness, sympathy, patience, will- 
power, etc. But as non-voluntary attention grows into 
voluntary, and the creature of impulse becomes capable of 
self-control, rational motives may be effectively appealed to. 
Thus, a subject unattractive or even repulsive in itself, com- 
mands attention through its association with " pleasure in 
prospect " of some desired end. (b) As in the earlier years 
something must be given the child to do, so in the later years 
something must be left to his thinking; the child delights in 
doing with the hand, the youth delights in doing with the 
mind — in conquering difficulties for himself (c) The different 
tastes and and abilities of pupils must be taken into account. 
A pupil may have little native capacity for a "subject, or, 
through irrational teaching, he may have acquired a thorough 
dislike for it. In either case, true attention on his part is ex- 
tremely difficult. He cannot attend in the specific direction, 
because he has nothing to attend with — no groups of ideas 
which are related to the new subject and without which he 
cannot seize upon it ; for, once more, a mind empty in a given 
direction, cannot attend in that direction. In such a case, if 
the teacher is without sympathy and the kindly insight that 
flows from it — a servile follower of pedagogic rule and formula, 
he draws the sweeping inference : Stupid in one, stupid in all. 
Thus, many a youth of fine ability has been grossly wronged 
because of his inability to make progress in a pathway along 
which his blind guide would force him. (d) Not only is 
attention the prime condition and the measure of intellectual 



APPERCEPTION AND RETENTION. 65 

development, it is of perhaps equal importance in the moral 
sphere. " The boy is father of the man ; " if, in the school, the 
habit of attention is formed, the power of concentrated thought 
developed, there will be thoughtfulness and steadiness of pur- 
pose in the character of the man. But the habit of inattention 
and the incapacity for steady thinking, are the chief factors in a 
character infirm of purpose, " unstable as water." Defective 
attention in practical life, (says Compayr6) is the synonym of 
thoughtlessness and heedlessness. To be habitually attentive 
is not only the best means of learning and progressing in the 
sciences, and the most effective prayer we can address to the 
truth in order that it may bestow itself upon us ; but it is also 
one of the most precious means of moral perfection, the 
surest means of shunning mistakes and faults, and one of the 
most necessary elements of virtue. See Dewey's Psychology, 
pp. 132-148. 



§ 4. APPERCEPTION AND RETENTION. 

We have finished our study of the processes — attention, 
voluntary and non-voluntary, and association — which elaborate 
the raw material of psychical life, previously studied, into the 
concrete forms yet to be taken up. Before taking them up, it 
is necessary to notice that these processes have a double refer- 
ence or aspect. They affect both the material acted upon, and 
the mind, which acts — they look towards both the object and 
the subject. For example, certain sensations are occasioned 
by an object ; the processes of attention and association work- 
ing upon them, form the idea of a flower. This is the outward 
objective effect But the mind now has knowledge of this 
flower ; its own store of ideas is increased ; its structure is en- 
larged in this direction. This is the inner, subjective effect. 

Retention and Apperception. — This latter effect is 

E 



66 PSYCHICAL PROCESSES. 

known as retention, the former as apperception. Apperception 
may be defined as the action of the mind upon the material pre- 
sented to it. Retention is the action upon the mind of this mater- 
ial when apprehended. Apperception is, thus, the process of 
taking anything into the mind (apprehending), of giving it 
psychical position and meaning. Retention is the effect which 
the material, when taken into the mind, has upon the mind 
itself. 

Illustrations. — These abstract definitions may be made 
clearer by examples. An infant, a savage, an ignorant man, and 
a skilled mechanic are before a steam-locomotive. It produces 
the same effect upon all, so far as sensations are concerned, 
supposing that all have their senses intact. And yet the baby 
apprehends nothing; there is no result except the mingled feelings 
of curiosity and terror. The savage also has these feelings, 
and in addition recognizes some qualities; its immense size, 
the peculiarities of its form, some analogies of appearance and 
of movement with those of animals that he has known ; per- 
haps he calls it an " iron-horse." The ordinary man perceives 
the locomotive — that is, he knows the purpose of this object, 
knows that it is propelled by steam, and knows some details of 
its structure. The mechanic perceives, in addition, the precise 
purpose of each part; the 'bearing' and relation of it He per- 
ceives the adjustment of means to an end ; the exact significance 
not only of the whole locomotive but of each member of it 
Whence come these differences of ideas in the four cases? 
Not from the engine ; not from the sensations ; but from the 
attitude of the mind towards the sensations — in short, from 
Apperceiving power — from the different ways in which the mind 
acts upon the sensations. 

On the other hand, certain results flow from the appercep- 
tion. The baby, it may be, will not be so frightened the next 
time he sees a locomotive : he will have a dim sense of 



APPERCEPTION ANt) RETENTION. 6? 

familiarity, of recognition. The structure of his mind, in 
other words, has been changed in a slight degree. The savage 
watches the locomotive ; he notices how it moves upon the 
rails ; how it is governed by levers, etc. The next time he sees 
a locomotive he does not have to observe these things in order 
to know that they are there ; his mind supplies them from 
his previous experience. This experience, therefore, after van- 
ishing, left some trace, some relic of itself. Let us now suppose 
that the mechanic shows the unlearned man the details of the 
engine ; that he imparts to him, as far as possible, his own 
knowledge. It is evident that, from this time forward, the 
attitude of mind of the latter toward locomotives, has entirely 
changed. He has not simply had some new facts told him, but 
these facts have entered into his mind and enlarged its powers. 
Knowledge is not a temporary occurrence, but is a permanent 
possession. In these instances, we have the fact of Retention 
illustrated. 

Mutual Relations. — It is evident that each of these 
processes depends upon the other. We can retain only what 
we have once apprehended, so much, at least, is clear. Fur- 
thermore, what we retain from one experience is that with 
which we apprehend ever afterwards. If the baby, or the 
savage, or the ignorant man apperceives more the second time 
he sees a locomotive than he did the first, it is because of 
what he has retained from that former experience. If every 
experience were "writ in water," if it left no trace of itself 
behind; in other words, if there were no such thing as reten- 
tion ; the result would be that we should always remain infants 
intellectually, for there would be no growth in apperceiving 
power. 

The Nature of Retention.— The student is not to infer 
that the experience itself is stored up in the mind, as grains of 
corn are stored in a bin. The mind is sometimes spokerv 



68 PSYCHICAL PR0CESSE3. 

of as a store-house, or as a magazine or granary ; but Such 
metaphors are misleading. The idea, as an idea, ceases to exist 
the moment that it leaves consciousness. Nor can we say in 
strict truth that a copy, or image, or trace of it is left behind. 
What then is retained, if it is neither the idea itself nor a copy 
of it ? The reply is that the effect which the experience makes 
upon the mind is retained. The apprehending activity of the 
mind may be compared to the reception and assimilation of 
food by a living organism. As the tree, for example, does 
not absorb surrounding gases, moisture and mineral substances 
and " store them up " unaltered, but as these act and react 
upon the living tissues of the tree until they themselves are 
changed into living tissues ; so the mind deals with its experi- 
ences. They are not passively received into the mind, to be 
preserved there unchanged, but they are worked over into the 
strengthening of old powers and tendencies and into the ger- 
mination of new ones. 

Educational Illustration. — Suppose a child has to add 
a column of figures. If he has added columns before and if he 
has "retained" something from the mental action involved in 
the operations, he will be able to do this without assistance. 
But it is not the preservation in his mind of the figures which 
he has added before, nor of their copies, that enables him to 
add. These former experiences have acted upon his mind, 
however, so as to give him the power to control its action 
in a certain direction, and to perceive and to construct rela- 
tions in this direction. A child should not learn the multipli- 
cation table so that its exact image recurs to him when he 
has to multiply two numbers, but in order that he may form the 
habit, gain the power, of dealing with numerical combinations. 

Dynamical Associations. — What is retained is some- 
times called a " dynamical association." By this is meant that 
retention consists in an active tendency to form connections. 



APPERCEPTION AND RETENTION. 69 

The mind which has joined objects or ideas by attention or by 
association, has not only the capacity of making similar connec- 
tions more easily in the future, but it has a tendency, a predis- 
position, to make them. Long before a child has conscious 
memory or recollection, he retains something from each of his 
experiences and it is by this retention that his mind grows in 
power, that it develops and matures. If we examine what is 
retained before memory exists, we see that it is the ability and 
the impulse to form associations like those formerly experi- 
enced. 

Nature Of Apperception. — We are now prepared to see 
more clearly what constitutes apperception. // is bringing to 
bear what has been retained of past experiences in such a way as 
to interpret, to give meaning to, the new experience. Without this 
act of bringing to bear what is retained in the mind, there is no 
knowledge of what is presented. It may be said, therefore, 
that in a certain sense all cognition is re-cognition. Know- 
ledge of what is perceived depends for its meaning upon re- 
lations to what the mind brings with it to the perception. 

An Objection Considered.— It may be objected that 
if this were the case, there would be no such thing as growth or 
advance in mental life. The objecter might say that, on this 
theory, if a new fruit, a guava, for instance, were presented to a 
person, he would not know it at all, since he could not recognize it. 
But this objection may be met so as to bring out the very point 
desired. The person tastes the fruit ; his mind from its previous 
experiences, recognizes a taste ; by similar acts of recognition he 
gets its odor, size, color and other properties. By its relations 
to his past experiences he thus judges the object to be a kind of 
fruit. In relating it to similar things he has known, he recognizes 
differences, as well as similarities, and thus enlarges his past 
experiences. He reorganizes qualities into new combinations, 
into a new objects. From the united similarities and differences; 



70 PSYCHICAL PROCESSES. 

he gets his knowledge of something hitherto unknown. On the 
basis of the likeness he recognizes what sort of an object is 
presented to him, /. e., he identifies the object; on the basis of 
the differences, he enlarges his past experiences into a distinct 
idea, an idea of something different from what was previously 
known. And in either case, it is only by the results of his past 
experiences that there is actual knowledge of the thing ex- 
amined. 

Educational Principles. 

i. As to Retention. — If the teacher will keep in mind that 
the retention of what is learned consists not in preserving 
it unchanged, but in working it over into mental capac- 
ities and tendencies, he will see that the end of instruction is 
not so much the acquisition of a given amount of information 
as the production of powers and tendencies, of abilities and 
tastes. Not what is perceived so much as power to perceive 
and interest which impels to perception, is the end of " object 
lessons." Not what is remembered so much as capacity to 
remember, and a fixed tendency to seize upon the salient 
points of every experience, are the objects of memory lessons ; 
not what is thought about so much as the habit of thinking, is 
the end to be sought in the instruction of reason. Knowledge 
of the real nature of retention affords the psychological basis 
of what it often stated as an empirical truth, viz., that education 
consists not in the imparting and acquiring of mere facts, but in 
the development of the whole personality. 

Yet, it is to be observed, there is often too broad a contrast 
made between knowledge and mental power as ends of edu- 
cation. The fact is, that the mind gains power in the act 
of acquiring knowledge. The two processes are necessarily 
correlative. For organizing mental faculty, there is no other 
means than organized knowledge. Still, if the mental power 



EDUCATIONAL PRINCIPLES. 1 1 

is made the true aim, it is likely that the elements of know- 
ledge will be more logically presented, and so both results will 
be more thoroughly attained. 

2, As to Apperception. — The psychogical equivalent of ap- 
perception is precisely " learning." The student learns what 
he apperceives. Since apperception consists in bringing the 
mind (with its past experiences organized into its structure) 
to bear upon material, it is evident that learning depends, 
upon the relation of the mind to what is presented. The 
teacher's office, therefore, in relation to learning is, on the one 
hand, to secure the presentation of material of such a kind and 
in such a manner that the mind can be brought into relation 
with it ; and on the other hand, to secure such a preparation and 
attitude of mind that it may easily be brought to bear upon 
what is presented. Proper presentation of material on the one 
side, proper preparation of mind on the other are the two condi- 
tions of learning. Further details regarding these conditions 
we shall meet with in our next chapter in discussing the prin- 
ciples of intellectual development. 

3. Organization of Faculty. — The mind of the infant, while 
inheriting certain tendencies and abilities which act instinc- 
tively, does not possess powers and faculties ready for action in 
definite directions. There are no apperceptive organs formed, 
no groups of ideas ready to seize upon and assimilate new 
material. There is simply a bundle of dormant capacities which 
must be stimulated into activity and organized into faculty by 
the presentation of material from without, and by the mind's 
reaction from within. Every mental experience leaves behind 
it a trace — called by some residuum — an effect, which tends to 
reproduce the experience, and the accumulation of such traces 
creates special power and tendency — mind-function of a 
definite kind. Moreover, from the known connection of 
mind with brain, there is no doubt that such experiences are 



72 EDUCATIONAL PRINCIPLES. 

accompanied by some modification in groups of brain cells, and 
that their growth into special organs of apperception is attended 
with nervous growths which actually modify the structure of 
the brain. It is not strange, therefore, that habit becomes a 
second nature so strong and active as sometimes to be mistaken 
for the first. This power, bent, facility to act — right or wrong, 
good or evil — in a definite direction, has entered into the struc- 
ture of both body and mind, and will give a coloring to all 
future thoughts and actions, just as the food-elements absorbed 
by the tree, become part of its living tissue and affect the 
assimilation of all material afterwards absorbed. Now, the 
teacher is not wholly responsible for such development of 
faculty — the powerful influence of environment must be taken 
into account — but there can be no doubt that, under conceivably 
favourable circumstances, he is, in no small degree, responsible. 
He can make the child love what he himself loves, and hate 
what he hates. It is difficult to over-rate the far-reaching influ- 
ence of a teacher of strong personality. Under the teaching of 
such a man, the child once thinks certain thoughts and is stirred 
with certain emotions ; from that moment he will never again 
be exactly what he was before ; it is, indeed, possible that he 
will have acquired a bent which will determine his character 
forever. 

In this law of retention and apperception, the teacher holds 
in his hand the principle which underlies all educational pro- 
cesses, moral, physical and intellectual ; the law that exercise 
strengthens faculty, develops faculty, and almost literally creates 
faculty. A child, e.g., of volatile disposition comes into his 
hands ; he gets from the child one act of attention suitable to 
his feeble capacity, then a second act, then a third, and so on 
till a fair habit of attention and a moderate power of concen- 
tration are formed, and the whole psychical life thereby influenc- 
ed. Or, the child is found to possess no " faculty " for literature, 
or mathematics, or science, or art ; but the teacher has power 



INTELLECTUAL DEVELOPMENT. 73 

to develop faculty, ability, taste for one or more of them, ac- 
cording to the special apperceptive "organs" which have 
been developed in his own mental life. On the moral side, 
the law is equally effective. If a teacher finds that a child is of 
a selfish disposition — " a wretch concentred all in self " — does 
he leave him to the workings of this meanest of all passions ? 
No, he watches for a favorable occasion to excite a generous 
sentiment in the selfish heart, and to make this effective in a 
kindly act ; he now occupies a higher vantage-ground ; it will 
be easier to excite a second generous emotion, and to lead to 
a second kindly act ; and thus the process goes on — the selfish 
principle becoming feebler with each successive act — till by the 
accumulation of the right experiences, a noble self-sacrificing 
character is formed — a new creation over which something 
higher than " the morning stars " may sing : for, " to make some 
human hearts a little wiser, manfuller, happier, more blessed, 
less accursed, is a work for a God." 

Note. — Further on Apperception and Retention, see Dewey's Psy- 
chology, pp. 81-90 ; 148-153. 



CHAPTER IV. 

FORMS OF INTELLECTUAL DEVELOPMENT. 

We have studied the Raw Material of psychical life, and the 
Processes which elaborate the material. We have now briefly 
to study the Finished Products. As stated in Chap. I., p. 6, 
these may be arranged in three classes, the Intellectual (matter 
of knowledge), the Emotional (matter of feeling), and the 
Volitional (matter of will). In this chapter we shall discuss 
Intellectual Development, taking up in the first section its 
general principles, and afterwards the concrete stages, par- 
ticularly in their educational relations. 



74 INTELLECTUAL DEVELOPMENT. 

§ 1. PRINCIPLES OP INTELLECTUAL DE- 
VELOPMENT. 

i. The Development of Intelligence is from the Presentative 
to the Representative. — Sensation, pure and simple, cannot be 
said to stand for, or symbolize, or represetit anything beyond its 
own occurrence. But the test of value of a sensation is its 
power to merge its own existence in what it represents. A 
sensation of hunger fills the mind with itself ; it thrusts out of 
consciousness everything but its own quality, all but its own 
imperious demands and hence gives next to no knowledge. 
A sensation of color, on the other hand, leads the mind 
beyond its own existence, to associations with other sensations, 
those of touch, of sound, etc. It suggests these sensations 
when they are not present, and thus becomes a sign or symbol 
of them — it represents them. As I look at a rose, for example, 
all I see, strictly speaking, is certain shades of color. Were 
my knowledge to stop short with this presentative factor, it 
would never occur to me that a rose was before me. But 
these shades of color stand for a certain size and shape, etc. 
They call up other sensations not now present, but experienced 
in the past ; they call up also associated sensations of touch, 
of smell, etc. And from all these factors — the most of them 
being now only representative in character — I get the idea of a 
rose. 

Farther Illustration. — Or, suppose I hear a strain of 
music which I recognize as, say, part of the song of " Robin 
Adair." All that is present is a certain auditory sensation ; as 
such, it is not Robin Adair, it is not a song, it is not music ; 
it is not even significant language. It is sound. But by what 
the sound stands for, what it symbolizes, it gains successively 
all its meaning. 

2. The Development of Intelligence is from the Sensuous to 
the Ideal. — This, indeed, follows at once from the principle 



INTELLECTUAL DEVELOPMENT. 75 

already laid down. The presented element is sensation ; the 
represented element can only be images, ideas. Not being 
supplied from the senses, the representative factor must be 
supplied from within the mind itself, and is thus called " ideal." 
Consider the perception, for example, of some particular object, 
this pen, this paper, this book, as now present in space. It might 
seem at first as if, in the perception of this book, there were no 
ideal element, because the entire book is actually present. But if 
we simply look at the book, the only elements presented to the 
mind are the color-sensations with which the mind is affected. 
The color-sensations do not make up an idea of the book. 
This contains not only color-element, but also those of weight, 
size, forms, and also the notion of a number of pages, printed 
with type, containing information and meant to be read. Now, 
of all these elements, the only one that can be seen, as matter 
of sensation, is color. The other qualities, therefore, are ideal 
— are supplied to the perception by the mind itself. 

Idealizing Activity. — Since the ideal factor, which is 
also equivalent to the representative factor, is of so much im- 
portance, it will repay further study. The ideal factor is due 
to retention. It is what the mind has preserved from its for- 
mer experiences and supplies to the sensuous presentation. 
The development of knowledge from the presentative and sen- 
suous to the representative and ideal, is due, therefore, to the 
results of past experience that are brought to bear upon new ex- 
periences. The sensation produced by the object as it affects 
the senses is all that in strictness can be said to be presented. 
Whether this sensation comes to mean or signify anything 
beyond its occurrence, depends first, upon whether the mind 
has had similar experiences in the past ; secondly, upon whether 
these experiences have taken root in the mind and pro- 
duced fruit there, . and thirdly, upon whether they are brought 
to bear upon the new presentation. Certain principles of great 
educational importance flow from what has been laid down. 



76 EDUCATIONAL PRINCIPLES. 

Educational Principles. 

i. The development of knowledge is the result of az. .er- 
preting process. The sensation, the presentative factor, must be 
interpreted in order to become representative, symbolic, or 
ideal ; in a word, in order to become significant, and upon the 
degree of interpretation depends the degree of significance. It 
is not enough to present a lesson to a pupil to be learnt, to 
show him natural objects which he is to understand, to lecture 
to him upon laws and relations. From the point of view of 
the pupil, the important thing is whether he can interpret the 
lesson, the object, the lectures. If he has no organs of inter- 
pretation, the materia], however true and well arranged in 
itself, is so much mere sensation to him, sound and color 
signifying nothing. 

2. // is the result of an assimilating process. The interpre- 
tation must occur through what the mind has within itself. 
The past store of knowledge, not held mechanically in mind, 
but wrought over into mental structure, capacity and tendency, 
is that through which the interpretation occurs. The process 
of' interpreting is a process of assimilating what is presented 
with what is already contained in the mind. It is of great 
importance, therefore, that the instructor should carry on his 
work in such a way as 

a. Not to load the mind with information, but to develop ten- 
dencies, organs, which may receive and elaborate new material. 

b. To create centres of interests and of ideas which shall be on 
the alert for new material, so that whatever is presented shall 
gravitate naturally to these centres, and be appropriated and as- 
similated by them. 

c. To be as careful, upon presenting new material, to arouse 
preparatory interest and the activity of the mental organs which 
are to interpret and assimilate the material, as to have the ma- 
terial itself well chosen and arranged. 

d. Always to utilize past knowledge in acquiring new. There 



INTELLECTUAL DEVELOPMENT. 77 

is no greater educational blunder than disconnected, dispersive 
instruction. In the primary stages, not only should lessons in 
the same subject be closely connected by proper grading, by 
overlapping of ideas, etc., but different subjects should gather 
about some common centre. In proper instruction, reading, 
writing, construction of sentences, arithmetic and geography, 
should have a certain amount of interconnection and unity, so 
as mutually to co-operate with and aid one another, instead of 
calling into play diverse and separate groups of interests and 
ideas. To present four subjects isolated from one another is 
to treat the pupil as having four minds ; it is almost to quad- 
ruple the required expenditure of energy. One subject is out 
of relation to another, and can give no aid in apprehending it. 

3. The Development of hitelligence is from the Vague to tht 
Definite, and from the Particular to the Universal. Its End 
is, therefore, to be both Specific and General. — Knowledge, in its 
first stages, is both indefinite or vague, and limited or non- 
general in character. A child's knowledge of, say, a horse, as 
compared with a man's, possesses no sharply denned features or 
qualities, and is lacking in recognition of the relations which 
this horse has in common with others. The child neither dis- 
criminates this horse carefully from all other horses, nor from 
other animals somewhat similar. If the horse is the animal 
with which he is most familiar, the dog will be to him a small 
horse, the elephant .a large horse. Taine tells of a child who 
had often been shown an infant in a picture and told that it 
was a baby ; for a long time that child called every picture, 
no matter of what, a baby. And this example is typical of 
the beginning of intelligence. There is no definiteness, no re- 
cognition of specific qualities ; all is vague, and, as it were, 
massed, not individualized. 

It is evident that early knowledge has a certain kind of 
generality — the generality of vagueness. The word " mamma," 



78 INTELLECTUAL DEVELOPMENT. 

may mean every woman, the word " dog," every animal, and so 
on. This is not a true universality, however, for there is no 
recognition of any general relation as such. The child may 
call every round object, from a circle drawn on his slate to the 
moon, " plate," but this is not because he grasps the identity of 
relation (in the matter of form) in these various objects. It is 
simply because he sees one salient quality and ignores differ- 
ences. Knowledge is general only in the sense that it is not 
individualized. In reality, the child's knowledge is limited, not 
general. Immature intelligence always takes facts in their 
isolation ; each is taken to be what it appears to be on its 
surface, a separate fact without connection with others. De- 
pendencies of one fact upon another, internal relations, reasons 
and laws, do not appeal to a young child ; in fact, he cannot 
be made to see them. Since each fact stands alone, knowledge 
is necessarily limited or particular. With the recognition of 
internal connections, of ways in which one fact depends upon 
another, or is the reason for some third fact, limitation is 
removed. 

Generality. — An idea is general, in the degree in which 
it stands for, represents, or symbolizes, ideas not contained in 
its own existence. It becomes general just in the degree in 
which it is taken out of its separation, its isolation, from other 
facts and is connected with them through some bond of like 
meaning. To a child, for example, a pebble may be simply 
what it appears to be in itself, one object, separate from all 
others, with an individuality of its own. But a scientific man 
generalizes the pebble. He sees it connected with other objects 
through the law of gravitation, through physical forces, through 
chemical actions and reactions. He may finally rise, through 
the discovery of the law of interdependence of all things, to 
the statement that if the pebble were otherwise than as it is, 
the whole structure of the Universe would have to be different. 
In other words, the qualities of the pebble have now become 



INTELLECTUAL DEVELOPMENT. 79 

significant of wide relations, instead of being just what they seem 
to be in themselves. 

Prom the Unrelated to the Related.— The principle 
of the development of intelligence may be otherwise worded : — 
The development of knowledge is from the unrelated to the 
related. Relations, as we saw when studying attention, are 
either of identity or of difference. Now, the mind has only a 
very limited capacity of relating its first experiences; it has 
almost nothing with which it may compare any presentation ; 
hence, as the relation of difference is not noticed, knowledge is 
vague, and, as the relation of identity is not recognized, know- 
ledge is limited. The discriminating, or analytic, activity 
develops relations of difference, and hence, clearly discrimin- 
ates one thing from another, and gives each an individuality 
of its own. The identifying, or synthetic, activity develops 
relations of unity between various facts and then takes them 
out of their isolated, separate character, into the generality of 
their common law or aspect. Every fact, as soon as it is con- 
nected with another fact, widens its meaning, for it has added 
to it the significance of this other fact. On the other hand, 
every fact, as it is distinguished from another fact, defines its 
meaning, for it is seen to signify something slightly different from 
the other fact. 

Illustration. — If we return to the child who confuses a 
plate, a circle and the moon, we shall find him, as he grows 
older, seeing differences. He will notice the brightness, etc. of 
the moon ; the solid, useful character of the plate ; the abstract 
character of the circle. Each object thus gains in individuality. 
But, as time goes on, he learns that the circle is a geometrical 
figure, a surface, curvilinear, etc. He identifies it with these 
other figures — the plate, etc.,— and learns that it has certain 
qualities in common with them ; thus his knowledge of it 
becomes wider, more general. He learns also to know the 



80 EDUCATIONAL PRINCIPLES. 

moon as a heavenly body, as not a fixed star, as a satellite, etc. 
In other words, he identifies it with each of these classes of 
objects, and in identifying it with them, adds to it the qualities 
which they possess. Then too, he recognizes the laws which 
connect the moon with other heavenly bodies ; the moon ceases 
to be an isolated body in the heavens, and becomes a member 
of a vast system, connected with every other member by 
permanent and universal laws. Knowledge of the moon is now 
both definite (in that its differences from other bodies, similar in 
some respects, are recognized) and general, in that its connec- 
tions with other bodies, however different in appearance they 
may be, are recognized. 

Educational Principles. — The principles just laid down 
are important as suggesting both the ends aimed at in the 
education of intelligence, namely, definiteness and generality, 
and the means by which these ends are to be reached, namely, 
analysis and synthesis. 

i. The Teacher has to make Knowledge Definite. — It is some- 
times said that knowledge begins with the concrete and advances 
to the abstract, and from this principle the rule is deduced that 
particular, definite, objects, should first be presented to the 
pupil, and afterwards his mind be led to consider abstract 
qualities. However true the principle may be, if it is rightly 
interpreted, it is thoroughly false if it is meant to imply that 
knowledge is at first concrete, and that this concrete, definite 
knowledge may be used as the basis for further knowledge. So 
far ought the teacher to be from assuming that objects have the 
same concreteness and definiteness to a pupil that they have to 
him, that his rule should be to make knowledge definite and 
concrete. 

Illustrations. — It is an extremely common error to sup- 
pose that, because an object, in itself, is definite and concrete, 
it is so to the mind. A triangle, for example, is in itself, per- 



INTELLECTUAL DEVELOPMENT. Si 

fectly definite ; it has just such and such properties and 
no others. But a child's idea of it has no such con- 
creteness. Indeed, the process by which he learns about 
the triangle is simply the process by which his idea gains 
definiteness. If his idea were already definite, his knowledge 
would be complete, whereas it is only beginning. A triangle 
is not a triangle to the child in the sense of a definite figure ; 
it has to be made a triangle, as he learns that it has three 
sides, in distinction from a square, that it is bounded by 
straight instead of curved lines, as a circle, etc. Primary 
object lessons, in the same way, are not to lead the mind on 
from some definite idea which the pupil already has, but to 
give him definite ideas, corresponding to the concrete individual 
character of the object. 

2. The Teacher should present, first, Wholes, then Parts: 
first Outlines, then Details. — The growth of knowledge in a 
child's mind has been well compared to the growth of his repre- 
sentation of, say, a man. The child, at first draws upon his 
slate two circles, one for the head, another for the body, and 
puts under the body two lines for legs. After a time, arms are 
added, perhaps a neck ; then the face begins to gain features, 
first eyes and mouth, then nose and ears ; the arms are en- 
dowed with hands ; the legs are given feet. Then the same 
process is repeated for each organ. The eye gains eye-brows, 
lashes and ball; the arms have joints; the hands, fingers, etc. 
Then perhaps the child undertakes to draw different individuals, 
and delineates the characteristic features that distinguish one 
person from another. So it is with our idea of any object ; it 
exists first in vague outline rude and typical in character. 
Gradually parts, members, are recognized, the most interesting 
first, then these again, are, subdivided. Various objects of the 
same general kind are examined with a view to seeing indi- 
vidual differences, and thus knowledge becomes gradually spe- 



82 EDUCATIONAL PRINCIPLES. 

cific and concrete. The teacher should follow this natural 
psychological order.* 

3. The Teacher must rely on the Mind's Analytic Power. — 
To reach his end, the educator must be able to excite the dis- 
tinguishing capacity of the student's mind. He cannot present 
the differences, the details directly to another ; but he can call 
attention to these qualities. That is to say, he can set the 
pupil's mind working in such ways that the latter will naturally 
produce for himself the required distinctions. This process of 
recognizing differences is native to the mind, and goes on, there- 
fore, spontaneously and largely unconsciously. The teacher 
has rather to incite it and rely upon it, than to create or con- 
sciously manipulate it. If suitable material is presented, the 
pupil's mind will be almost as sure to act upon it properly, 
without specific guidance, as his digestive organs wiH be sure 
to digest wholesome food without being told how to do it 

The awakening and developing of mental appetites or interests, 
and preparing apt material for them to work upon, give wide 
enough scope to the teacher's ability without his attempting to 
show the pupil's mind just how it must work. The right use of 
object lessons, of definite and precise statements in text-books, 
of talks and lectures by the teacher, etc, etc., are all covered 
by the three heads of arousing interest, of presenting material 
properly arranged and of preparatory mental activity. The 
native, distinguishing capacities of the mind must be trusted 
for the rest, and if the teacher succeeds in securing the 
conditions just mentioned, he need have no doubt about the 
result The mind is always seizing upon whatever is 

* The term " whole," however, is here used in a psychological not 
in a spatial sense. Because the world is really the whole of which 
geography treats, it does not follow that it is the whole with which the 
child's mind naturally begins. Or because the sentence is a grammatical 
whole, it does not follow that it is the psychological outline first in a 
child's mind. 



INTELLECTUAL DEVELOPMENT. 83 

presented, noticing differences, subdividing, comparing, and 
producing new distinctions. It cannot work at all without going 
through these operations. Discrimination is a fundamental 
mental capacity. 

4. The Teacher must depend, similarly, upon the Synthetic Func- 
tion of Mind. — The mind naturally works towards unity, as it 
does towards definiteness. If the teacher awakens a genuine 
appetite for facts and reasons, and by all methods at his com- 
mand, presents material so that this appetite is fed, and not pam- 
pered on the one hand, or repressed on the other, the pupil's mind 
will instinctively work towards the underlying relations of things. 
ideas grow together in the mind ; centres of psychical gravita- 
tion are formed about which ideas of a like kind gather ; and 
these centres become organs for the apperception of like ideas 
in the future. If the mind works upon facts of like kind and 
along the lines which connect them, the time will surely come 
when it will notice these connections and the similarities. 
First, unconscious growth towards unifying or grouping facts, then 
conscious recognition of the unities, classes and laws, is the order 
of nature. 

5. Neither Facts alone, nor Relations alone, but Related Facts 
should be Taught. — It is now generally recognized in theory, at 
least, that it is an educational blunder to cram the mind with a 
mass of isolated facts, regarded simply as facts, apart from their 
reasons. It may be questioned whether there has not been, in 
some quarters, a reaction to the opposite extreme, and whether 
reasons, relations, causes, are not presented at too early a period. 
For example, many teachers require pupils that are little more 
than beginners in arithmetic, to write out examples in addition, 
subtraction, etc., with a statement of the exact reason for every 
operation performed. Teachers have been known to explain 
to children beginning technical grammar, the difference between 
a percept and a concept, in order to make them understand the 



84 INTELLECTUAL DEVELOPMENT. 

difference between a common and a proper noun ! If a florist 
were not content with supplying a plant with all necessaiy 
material for its growth, and with then allowing it to produce 
fruit naturally, but should insist upon analyzing the flower in 
order to find the seed within it, he would be acting on pre- 
cisely the same principle. 

Facts, in and of themselves, have relations to one another, or 
explain, that is, furnish reasons for one another. The mind 
also has an institutive tendency to connect facts and search for 
reasons. Now, if facts be taught according to the relation 
which unites them, and if interest be awakened in the mind in 
assimilating the facts, the mind can hardly help, even if it 
would, a final discovery of the relation. The teacher must 
have the greatest confidence in the rationality of facts, when 
they are rightly connected, and in the native tendency of the 
mind to develop itself through, first, unconscious appropriation 
of this rationality, and, second, conscious recognition of it. If 
the teacher will but have confidence in facts and in intelligence, 
he will not try himself to take the place both of the facts and of 
the pupil's mind. 

6. The so-called Faculties of Mind are Successive Stages in 
the Development of Intelligence.-^l'h&SQ faculties are Perception, 
Memory, Imagination, and Thinking. They are sometimes 
treated as independent powers of mind, having no connection 
with one another, excepting that they all happen to belong to 
the same being. But, in reality, they are the results of the 
progressive growth of intelligence in representative, ideal 
and related character. The same activities, the same prin- 
ciples run through all, but in various degrees of development. 

1. Perception. This may be defined as the recognition of 
some particular object now present in space, as, for example, this 
particular tree, this particular blade of grass, this particular 
pebble, etc., such knowledge is 



INTELLECTUAL DEVELOPMENT. 85 

(1) Both presentative and representative. — It is_j>resentative, 
because based on actual sensation. It is representative, because 
this sensation does not constitute the perception excepting in 
connection with what it stands for. Take, for example, the 
perception of this tree. As I stand here, I see it at a distance 
of twenty feet. The only sensations that I get from it now are, 
therefore, those of color and the muscular sensations which I 
have as my eye turns from one point of light to another. The 
representative elements are the form, size, height and distance of 
the tree ; the feeling it would give if I had power to touch it ; its 
wider, unseen, structure and arrangement ; the kind of tree, as 
e. g. a maple, and all the scientific knowledge that I have of its 
modes of growth and reproduction, etc., etc. The very few 
sensations, which I have, symbolize all the qualities which are not 
actively (that is sensibly) present. 

(2) It is Largely Ideal. — These representative factors are 
ideal. They are supplied from the mind, not given in the 
actual affection of sense. All the meaning, the significance, 
that the present perception has, is supplied from what the mind 
has preserved of former experience. The mind, on the basis 
of its own content, thus idealizes the given sensation, into the 
complex idea of the tree. 

(3) // is Largely made up of Relations. — The relations which 
are most prominent in perception are those of space. The 
object is at a certain distance, has a certain position, form, 
surface and bulk. Each of these qualities is relative. Distance 
is measured from my body or from some other object ; posi- 
tion is the place of the object with reference to other objects; 
its form is its relation to bodies that bound it, etc We perceive 
an object, therefore, only by relating it to other objects. A 
body absolutely isolated cannot be perceived at all. Such 
relations, (that is spatial ones) are, however, largely external. 



86 INTELLECTUAL DEVELOPMENT. 

The relation of one body to another in space may be changed 
without changing its own nature. 

2. Memory, — This, in its most complete sense, may be 
defined as the reproduction of some event or idea once present to 
mind but not now so, with a reference of it to its proper place in 
time. My remembrance of a railway accident, for example, is 
complete when I can reproduce all its details, and also tell 
when it occurred, that is, place or date it with reference to pre- 
ceding and to succeeding events. Such reproductions are 

(i) Largely Representative. — The representative element is 
greater than in perception, for, in the latter, the sensation which 
is present, say of color, represents other sensations of weight, 
contact, taste, etc., which might be made present, if only we 
applied our other senses. But in memory, both the remem- 
bered event and the time in which it occurred have vanished, 
and we could not make them present if we wished. We 
represent not what we could experience, but what we have 
experienced. 

(2) It is Largely Ideal. — The memory of pain is not itself a 
pain ; the memory of the sun does not shine ; the memory oi 
an apple does not taste, etc. etc. Memory, in other words, is 
largely divested of sensible qualities, and is mental or ideal in 
nature. 

(3) 77 Consists of Relations. — In [memory, we extend the 
sphere of relations beyond those of space to those of time. We 
fix the object or event not only with reference to co-existing 
objects, but with reference to those that go before and those 
that come after. An event can no more be fixed in absolute 
time, independent of relation to other events, than an object 
can be located in absolute space. It is the extent of relations 
involved that makes it so difficult for young children to have 
any idea of the duration of experiences, or of the times when 
they occurred. 



INTELLECTUAL DLVELOPMENT. 87 

3. Imagination. — Imagination is the power of producing 
ideas without any reference to our own past experience. — Suppose 
that instead of recalling some railway accident which we 
ourselves have experienced, we attempt to picture it to our- 
selves. We frame mental pictures of the moving trains, of 
their collision, of the crash, of the escaping steam, etc. etc., — and 
all this without ever having experienced any such combination 
of incidents. Here we have imagination. It is evidently 
closely allied to memory in two ways. In the first place, we 
must even in memory, picture or image, what is not present, and 
thus use a kind of imagination. In the second place, we very 
rarely recall events just as they happened ; we leave out unim- 
portant details, we re-arrange the details according to some 
plan or system, we gradually and unconsciously shift the rela- 
tions of facts, and even sometimes transform the facts them- 
selves. In so doing, we are virtually making new combinations, 
we are imagining. 
I 

Persons who have formed decided recollections of important 
events that happened years before, are often startled upon 
coming upon an actual description of the experience (per- 
haps even written by themselves) at the time it occurred, to see 
the difference between the fact and their recollection of it. The 
latter has become a work of fancy, and this has happened 
simply by the natural laws of the development of reproduction, 
without any intention on the part of the person concerned to 
alter or distort. i?«?-production always tends to bring out the 
universal, the typical, to neglect the accidental and insignifi- 
cant, and thus passes gradually into production. Imagination 
might be called idealized memory — memory which has lost its 
personal reference to our own experience and become general- 
ized. Thus art, the product of imagination, has been termed 
" the world's memory of things." In the same sense poetry 
has been pronounced truer than history. 



88 INTELLECTUAL DEVELOPMENT. 

The productions of imagination are thus — , 

(i) Both Representative and Ideal. — The image which we 
make for ourselves need not correspond to anything now 
present, or ever present, either to ourselves or to another. Or, 
it may correspond to what indeed is not present, but to what 
would be present if our senses were greatly enlarged and our 
vision into things deepened. In the latter case, it represents 
real but unperceived and unremembered facts. Professor Tyn- 
dall thus gives to imagination a very high place in the develop- 
ment of science. It may also represent not what is capable of 
being present, but what we should like to be present, if we 
could have our way, if we could reconstruct affairs about us. 
Imagination thus reshapes the actual order and under the influ- 
ence of love and desire gives birth to ideals, which in turn be- 
come guides to conduct. 

(2) // Involves Wide Relations. — Imagination, as it is more 
representative and ideal, deals with wider relations than 
memory and perception. Its relations are not confined to 
space and time. Indeed, it frees its images from the limita- 
tions of place and of time, and contemplates them in their uni- 
versal significance. Take the old story of Sir Isaac Newton 
and the fall of the apple. As a matter of perception he saw 
the fall of this particular apple ; in memory he could call up 
the falling of many material bodies, of all he had ever experi- 
enced. By imagination he grasped the fall of this apple as 
significant of relations of all material bodies to one another ; he 
saw embodied in it, relations as wide as the material universe. 
This illustrates the usual working of imagination in its higher 
forms. It idealizes some particular fact or idea, and makes it 
typical of a whole group of facts ; it universalizes the fact or 
idea. 

4. Thinking. — This may be defined as the recognition of 
universal factors or of relations in their connections with one an- 
other and with particular facts. While we perceive, or remem- 



INTELLECTUAL DEVELOPMENT. 89 

ber, or imagine something particular, some given object, or 
event, or person, we think what is general. In thinking, we do 
not deal, for example, with any particular rose or geranium, but 
with the class of roses or of geraniums ; with the relations that 
make the rose what it is as a rose, independent of the peculiar- 
ities which any one individual rose may happen to possess. 
So, while the mathematician may have before him a particular 
triangle drawn on a certain blackboard, yet his demonstra- 
tions do not concern this triangle, but deal with triangles in 
general, when he proves that the three interior angles are 
together equal to two right angles. In thinking, the particular 
is degraded to be simply a sign, or instance, or illustration of 
the general law or relation. It is of no value in itself, but 
simply as standing for a universal. 

Thinking deals accordingly with representative, ideal and re- 
lated factors. 

(1) They are representative, for, as just said, the presentation 
has no value of its own ; its worth is entirely in its capacity to 
stand for a law or a class. It is a sign like the x of the alge- 
braist, having per se no value ; and having its value finally de- 
termined by what it is discovered to stand for. 

(2) That which is thus signified is ideal. The universal has 
no existence as a separate thing in time or space. It is the 
significance or meaning which is general, and meaning is ideal 
When we speak of having a general idea of a rose, for example, 
this does not mean that we think of some object somewhere 
existing, which is a universal rose. Nor does it mean that 
we are able to frame an idea of a rose in general, that is of 
qualities common to all roses, and excluding all qualities pecu- 
liar to each. Any idea we frame must be of a rose of certain 
size, color, form, etc. ; it must be particular. It is just like the 
triangle drawn on the board ; we can make only some par- 
ticular triangle, not triangle in general. What is general is the 
power which the particular has of standing for, or symbolizing, a 



90 INTELLECTUAL DEVELOPMENT. 

relation or group of relations. In other words, the general 
factor lies neither in some one actual object, nor in an actual 
idea, but in the relations of a particular object — in the significance 
of a particular idea. 

(3) Thinking is an Explicit Process of Grasping Relations. 
Relations are implied, involved in perception, memory and imagi- 
nation, but thinking deals expressly and openly with the rela- 
tions and with nothing else. The mind discriminates and 
identifies in those earlier stages, and in thinking it simply aims 
consciously at discovering unities and differences ; the whole 
process is one of conscious analysis and synthesis. 

Educational Principle. — The Teacher should always 
keep in Mind that Perception, Memory, Imagination and Think- 
ing are Stages of Mental Development, and that one grows 
naturally out of another. — Much harm has resulted in peda- 
gogy from treating these stages of development as if they were 
independent faculties, having no connection with one another. 
When this is laid down as a fundamental principle of psy- 
chology, unity of education is lost ; each " faculty " is then 
trained by separate methods. There is one process to train 
perception, another to train memory, another for thinking, etc. 
The inevitable result is so great a number of " methods n that 
both teacher and pupil are burdened. Again, this separation 
is abnormal, not corresponding to any psychological fact. The 
methods employed are, therefore, artificial as well as too nu- 
merous. Spontaneity and interest are thus killed. Above all, 
the multiplication of separate and artificial methods is wasteful 
of mental energies, and inefficient in results. But in reality 
each "faculty" is but a stage in the increasing growth of 
knowledge in symbolic or representative character, in meaning 
or significance, in generality and in definiteness. No arbitrary 
line separates one from another ; much less does each have an 
independent and isolated principle of activity. It follows that 



TRAINING OF PERCEPTION. 9 1 

the right education of perception is at the same time a training 
of memory, and the proper education of memory insures the 
correct development of imagination and of thought. Any right 
method trains intellectual function and, thereby, trains each faculty . 
These topics will now occupy us in more detail. 

§ 2. PERCEPTION. 
The training of perception should be considered by the 
teacher both (i) in itself, and, (2) in its reference to other 
stages, a preparation for them. 

Perception is the most immediate and preservative of all the stages of 
knowledge, and hence is the closest to sensation. There can be no per- 
ception except when there is an object affecting the senses, and the rich- 
ness of the perception will depend on the degree in which the senses are 
exercised. What has been said regarding sensation should, therefore, be 
again refered to. 

(1) The Training of Perception in Itself.— This 
should be of such a character as : (1) To render the percept — 
what is perceived — accurate and complete ; (2) To render the 
perception independent, and (3) To form the habit of 
observation. 

i. Accuracy and Fullness. — Very few persons see just what is 
before them, or see it in its fullness, for seeing is using the 
mind, not opening the eyes or staring with them. To avoid 
hazy perceptions, those which slur over the object and report 
it in a dim way, or only partially, the mind must be active. 
There must be mental alertness instead of indolence and 
inertia. In the earlier stages of life, this alertness and the corre- 
sponding degree of definiteness of perception, are ensured by 
the child's physical activity — the attempts to reproduce the 
object, to imitate it, to get hold of it, to do something with it ; 
and in carrying out any course of action, in making anything, 
there is necessarily a process of taking apart and putting to- 
gether, which is the best possible preparation for future mental 
analysis and synthesis. These activities, as previously sug- 



92 INTELLECTUAL DEVELOPMENT. 

gested. may be carried into the school. Folding, weaving, 
drawing, modelling, etc., all of them make perception accurate, 
because all of them require an unconscious analysis, at least, of 
the features of the object, and then a recombination of them 
into a new whole. Such activities exercise the mind as well 
as the senses. 

Principle further Applied. — The teacher should strive to have the 
pupil carry the same spirit of enquiry into subjects where chiefly mental 
analysis and synthesis are required. The student's mind should always 
be in a questioning attitude ; what features has this object, this event ? 
How do they go together to make the whole ? What have I known like it? 
What of the same kind, and yet different ? and so on. It is a mistake to 
carry on a recitation simply as a test of memory : its primary end should 
be to test the original perception ; to discover what the student has grasped> 
and should (without confusing him) leave him with such a sense of imper. 
feet perception as to stimulate him to renewed perceptive activity. 

2. Independence. — In the higher grades of education, fresh- 
ness and originality should be aimed at. This does not mean 
necessarily that the student should make original discoveries, 
that he should see what no one else has ever seen. But it 
does mean that he is to observe for himself ; that, so far as he 
is concerned, what he perceives is to be a discovery, whether 
it is for other people or not. Every teacher knows that there 
is a tendency on the part of the pupil to fall into the habit of 
seeing only what he is expected to see, of seeing what is repre- 
sented by others to be before him, rather than what is actually 
presented. Perception thus becomes barren and conventional. 

Agassiz was accustomed to put his pupils at a microscope, and giving 
them no idea of what was to be seen, compel them to look for themselves 
until they had observed everything possible. Whether this is the best 
method of accomplishing the result or not, there is no doubt about the de- 
sirability of the pupil's using his own mental powers in perception, rather 
than following the reports of oihers. 

3. Habit of Observation. — Far more important than the per- 
ception of any object or number of objects, no matter how ao 



TRAINING OF PERCEPTION. 93 

curate and comprehensive the percepts may be, is the formation 
of a habit of observation. A pupil who leaves school on the 
look-out, with his senses wide awake and keen for whatever is 
presented, and with a knowledge of how to employ them, has 
the most perfect equipment the teacher can provide him with, 
so far as perception is concerned. The training of the power 
to observe should be the prime object, rather than the actual 
observation of a certain number of things. This power involves 
three elements : (i) An interest in natural objects amounting 
to sympathy with and love for them ; (2) An attention which 
is both alert and under control ; and (3) Ability to use the sense- 
organs, especially the eye, the ear and the hand, as instruments, 
just as one would use the microscope or the pencil 

(2) Perception in its Relation to other Stages. — 
The other stages of knowledge are developed from perception 
by a natural process of growth. It is their germ. Unless, 
therefore, perception is rightly educated, memory suffers, not 
merely because it is not supplied with sufficient material to 
remember, but because the functions which enter into memory 
itself are feeble and imperfectly developed. So, too, there 
will not only be less material for imagination and reason to 
work upon, but the mental activities which are necessary for 
imagination and reason will be defective. A training of per- 
ception is, therefore, necessary not only for knowledge of 
things which are and may be perceived, but for the sake of 
knowledge of what may never be, or perhaps cannot be, under 
actual observation. For example, a child will learn about 
many things in his geography and history lessons which, from 
the nature of the case, he cannot perceive ; foreign countries 
and their productions ; past epochs and their customs. Now, 
these things will either mean nothing to the pupil, or will be 
thought of in analogy with what he does perceive. The pupil 
will extend and combine his own past perceptions till they seem 



94 INTELLECTUAL DEVELOPMENT. 

to convey to him the required idea. We thus derive the im- 
portant principle : 

All that a child hears or reads about, if not itself matter oj 
perception, will be translattd into perceptions already familiar, and 
only as so translated will it have any meaning. The teacher 
must absolutely see, therefore, 

(a) That the child has a sufficiently wide store of actual per- 
ceptions before he goes into fields which demand representative 
ideas, and 

(b) That the child connects ideas which are given to him in 
a representative way (from the teacher or from the text book) 
with some actual perception, and with the perception best 
fitted to render the representative idea significant ; that is, there 
must be illustrative teaching, and the teacher must take care 
that the illustrations appeal to clear and adequate perceptions. 

Possible Errors. — It is easy to blame a pupil for ideas 
that seem ridiculous and absurd, when really his having such 
ideas shows that he is doing his best to translate unknown 
topics into what is familiar and significant That his transla- 
tion is inadequate or erroneous, is rather the fault of the teacher 
than of the pupil. It should also be remembered that to put 
constantly before pupils representative ideas which they cannot 
make over into perceptions previously experienced, is to burden 
the mind with what is meaningless. And the evil does not stop 
with loading the mind with this mass of dead matter. In the 
meaningless, the mind cannot take any interest. It is interested 
only in what has some connection with itself; interest has even 
been defined as the relation of an impression to a group of ideas 
in the mind. If, therefore, there is no connection between 
what is given to the mind to learn, and its own store of expe- 
riences, interest is an impossibility. And, finally, with the loss 
of interest vanishes the power of paying attention. 



TRAINING OF MEMORY. 95 

The Cause of Dullness and Mind-Wandering.— it is a too com 

mon experience to find children who at five or six years old are keen and 
alert — interested in everything with which they come in contact, become 
after six or eight years schooling, dull and listless in all that concerns their 
studies. In the great number of cases, the reason undoubtedly is that so 
much matter has been put before them which they cannot "apperceive,'" 
that is, which thay cannot really bring their minds to bear upon. And the 
reason they cannot bring their minds to bear, cannot interpret and assimi- 
late, is the lack of previous experiences into which the new material can^be 
translated. Thus studies become unreal and artificial, belonging to a realm 
outside the significant experience of the pupil, and the mind can assume 
only a mechanical relation to what is learned. 

§ 3. MEMOEY. 

For the teacher's purposes, memory may be defined as the 
power of getting anything into the mind so that it can be got out 
again when wanted. One factor then concerns the original 
getting of a thing into the mind, or learning, the other, the getting 
of it out again, or recollecting. Each of these factors depends 
chiefly upon attention and, of course, interest, since attention 
itself depends upon interest. 

(1) Learning. — The chief thing for the teacher to keep in 
mind is that the training of memory is, to a very large degree, 
training in original apperception — in apprehension and assimi- 
lation of what is to be remembered. It may be laid down as a 
rule : Do not aim at training memory directly, but '- 
indirectly, through the training of the apperceiv- 
ing powers. The attitude of the pupil's mind should be : I 
must f>erceive this just as it is and in all its bearings ; not, I must 
remember this. If the original perception, in other words, is 
what it should be, accurate, comprehensive and independent, 
memory may be left very largely to take care of itself. For the 
first step in remembering anything is to get it within the mind, 
and apperception is just this getting it within the mind. If this 
is thoroughly done, the first step in memory is already taken, 
and it needs no special training of its own. We may now 
apply this general rule so as to make it more specific 



o6 INTELLECTUAL DEVELOPMENT. 

I. A certain amount of material which has, in itself, no mean- 
ing, always has to be memorized. — This includes, to a large 
extent, the spelling of words, historical dates, names of coun- 
tries, rivers and other geographical data, and, perhaps to a 
certain extent, in primary teaching, rudimentary arithmetical 
facts. Now, the wrong method of training, that which insists 
on the direct training of memory, would pay small attention, or 
none, to the original perception of these facts, but would en- 
deavor by the force of repetition to get them impressed upon 
the mind. The correct method endeavours to see that the pupil's 
interest is aroused, that he pays keen attention, and that he forms 
a lively and definite idea of what he is to remember. If he is 
to learn to spell " deceive," he is not to do it by a mechanical 
repetition of the letters one after another till they are graven 
into his memory, but by a perception of them, based on interest 
in the form and structure of the the word, and by holding the 
mind in strong tension to see just what should be seen and 
nothing else. If the child performs this act of interested and 
lively perception, and if he is occasionally called upon to 
reproduce his knowledge, there is not much danger that he 
will forget the word. And so with memorizing the other 
classes of facts mentioned. The teacher thus best cultivates 
memory by arousing interest, keeping the senses sharp and 
tense, and by allowing memory to grow out of the resulting 
perception. 

2. There is also material to be memorized, which consists in the 
consecutive state?nent of matters of fact. — It differs from what was 
included in the first class in that it has meaning of its own ; 
but it consists of facts rather than of reasons for the facts. It 
includes the largest part of historical and of geographical studies, 
and of elementary physical science. Here again it is original 
apperception that needs most looking after. ft Learning by 
heart," in the sense of impressing the facts upon the mind by 
the force of sheer repetition, should not be permitted. It may 



tRAitttNG OF MEMORV. tf 

be necessary to learn many of the important statements so that 
they can be repeated exactly, and it will probably be necessary 
to use repetition: but the literal memorizing should be acconu 
plished through the ways in which the statements are appre-* 
hended, and repetition should be used as an aid to the appre- 
hension, and not as the basis of the memory. 

" Learning by Heart." — This, as a process of memorizing by repeat- 
ing the subject-matter over and over till it is fixed in mind, is faulty for 
four reasons. 

( 1 ) It employs only sensuous association. The mind has to form some associa- 
tions, even in such memorizing, but it forms only associations between the 
sounds of the words, or their visible appearances. There is no association 
of the ideas involved. 

(2) It leaves the mind passive. What is learned is impressed upon the 
mind, not produced by the mind's activity. The result of treating the mind 
as a wax-tablet is always that the various impressions blur and blot out one 
another, and that finally the wax is worn out, and there is left only a 
hard surface which will not receive impressions. The common complaint 
that memory fails with increase of years is largely due to this misuse of 
memory. In childhood there is without doubt a very great impressibility 
of the senses. The mind is plastic and sensations are vivid. The result is 
that sensuous associations are easily formed. But as impressions grow less 
vivid, and sensations become common place, this plasticity and the forming 
power of sensuous associations is greatly impaired. 

(3) The mind being passive, only receiving impressions, it is burdened by 
what it remembers. This does not enter into the mental structure and is 
thus a load for it to carry. It may be laid down as an axiom that whatever 
does not help the mind hinders it ; whatever does not aid the mind to 
group new material is a strain on mental energy. 

(4) The senses, rather than the mind, being engaged, the habit of mind- 
wandering is produced. One of the commonest sources of inability to con- 
centrate attention and keep it fixed, is that the pupil has been accustomed to 
memorize by the mere repetition of sense impressions while his mind was 
really occupied with something else. 

It is to be borne in mind that the foregoing remarks apply to learning-by- 
heart as a mechanical process in which only verbal associations are formed. 
If learning-by -heart includes — as it ought to include — an appeal to the 
intelligence, it becomes of high value in education ; it is accordingly to be 
G 



98 INTELLECTUAL DEVELOPMENT. 

legretted that, in the just reaction against mere rote learning, there is a 
pernicious tendency to disparage the memory and especially to eliminate 
from " modern " methods the truly educating practice of intelligently 
learning by heart selections from the masterpieces of our literature. 

Reliance upon Association and Attention. — 
What has been said should not be taken to mean that the senses 
are not to be employed to the utmost in memorizing. On the 
contrary, whatever vividness and plasticity the senses possess, 
should be utilised. But they should be employed in subordi- 
nation to the mental functions. The senses are good servants 
but poor masters ; they should be used in memorizing, just in 
the degree in which they are necessary to clear, vivid and full 
apperception, and no further. 

Association of Ideas. — On the positive side, it may be 
said that memorizing should rest upon the association of ideas, 
not of sensations. That is, what the sensations mean, what 
they convey to the mind, should be connected ; and, so far as 
possible, the kinds of connection, whether of contiguity or of 
similarity, should be noticed. It will be found a great aid, even 
in teaching young pupils, to point out the way in which facts 
are connected. 

Analysis and Synthesis- — The constant employment 
of the functions of analysis and synthesis should be relied upon. 
The student may, for example, first read over the whole lesson, 
reading it with attentive mind, and not with his eyes alone ; that 
is, interpreting it by his present store of knowledge, and as- 
similating it to that as far as possible. Thus he will gain a 
general idea of the whole ; then let him go over the subject 
again, making the various parts of the whole definite, and getting 
them in their relations to one another. If the material is suited 
to the pupil's stage of development, that is, if he can grasp its 
bearing and properly apperceive it, then by the time he has ap- 
prehended the material as a whole and in its parts, it will gen- 
erally be found that no special draft upon the specific capacity 
of memory is requisite ; in taking it in, he has memorized k. 



TRAINING OF MEMORY. 99 

3. There is material to be learned consisting in the, relations of 
complex Ideas. — This includes subjects like higher mathematics* 
political economy, psychology, the more advanced stages of na- 
tural science, etc. Such material has meaning in itself, and alsd 
states, either expressly or by implication, reasons for the facts, as 
well as the facts themselves. Here the main principle, that 
memory is a function dependent upon original apprehension, still 
holds good. Such material must be understood and the process 
of understanding it, of developing relations and tracing their 
connections with one another, is a process of making it over 
into mental structure, and, therefore, fulfils the first requisite of 
memory. To memory in this third and highest stage, the state- 
ment of a French author that memory should be the cradle and 
not the tomb of an idea, is particularly applicable. Such mate- 
rial when taken into the memory, should not lie dormant, but 
should be constantly assimilating material to itself, so as finally 
to re-appear in transformed and enriched shape. 

Forgotten Knowledge— It is on this ground that we are able to 
answer the question often asked as to the benefit of studies, such e. g., as 
Greek Grammar and the Calculus, which; are often forgotten after leaving 
school, by one who never uses them. There is not only the formal benefit, 
the discipline of the mental powers employed in learning these subjects, 
but there is a material benefit. While the person may not be able to recall 
just what he learned, he yet remembers it in the sense that it has been trans- 
formed into new mental growths. It has been changed into assimilating 
power — into mental function. This accounts for the paradoxical statement 
sometimes made, that one never remembers tilFone has forgotten. 

(2) Recollection. — Beside learning or getting the subject- 
matter into the mind, there is recollecting, or drawing it forth 
again when desired. Correct apprehension greatly aids ready 
and correct recalling, for correct apprehension takes hold of the 
connections of ideas in what is learnt, and thus makes it easy 
and almost necessary for the mind to pass from one idea already 
present to another which it wishes to make present. If the 
association is merely sensuous, however, there, is nothing inter- 



tOO INTELLECTUAL DEVELOPMENT. 

hal to connect the facts or objects, and hence recollection may 
be broken off at any point. Aside from this, however, recollec- 
tion depends upon (i) Repetition and (2) Attention. 

1. Repetition. — If the original act of apprehension has been 
an interested and an attentive one, difficulty of recollection will 
generally be found to be due to the multiplicity of associations 
that arise. The idea that is already in the mind, instead of 
suggesting the idea desired, starts a number of allied ideas. 
Thus, it will be found that the reason why an illiterate man 
seems to have a better memory than an educated one, or a 
child than an adult, is that the child and the illiterate have, 
comparatively, so few experiences that there is less difficulty in 
passing from one to another. When there are a great number 
of associations clustered about the same idea, they run into and 
obstruct one another. The best means of obviating this is fre- 
quent repetition of that association deemed most important, until 
the mind acts more easily along that line than along the lines 
of other associations. Each exercise of an associative activity 
strengthens capacity in that direction, and, makes subsequent 
exercise easier. 

Reviews. — From what has been already said, it will be understood that 
repetition is not to be mechanical but active. That is, it is not to be a 
repetition of the impression upon the mind, but of the activity by which the 
impression is apprehended. In the great majority of cases it will be found 
that mastery of a subject depends less upon its first reception into the mind 
than upon the frequent going over of what was then learned. To use the com. 
parison of a recent writer, just as a military officer must daily review his 
troops to see that they are in proper condition for battle, so a student must 
constantly review his ideas to keep them fresh and ready for use. 

2. Attention. — In this connection, we do not refer to the use 
of attention in the original apprehension, but in the act of recol- 
lection. The machinery of recollection is as follows : There is 
an idea in the mind which has either been contiguous to the 
idea we wish to recall, or is similar to it. By the laws of asso- 



PERCEPTION. 10 1 

ciation, therefore, the present idea will suggest what is wanted. 
When we say we recollect, it is really one idea or a group of 
ideas which recalls, or redintegrates, the other. But it may fail 
to suggest the other spontaneously. It is then necessary to 
pay attention to all factors connected with what we wish to re- 
call, and thus stimulate them to suggest what is wanted. In 
other words, the will cannot aid directly in recollecting, but 
only indirectly by dwelling upon associated factors. It is these 
factors which, working by contiguity or similarity, bring about 
the recollection. If, for example, we wish to recall some one's 
name, we think of where we met him, who introduced him, 
what was said, etc.; we go over the letters of the alphabet, to try 
whether the name will be suggested by its initial letter. Thus 
we start by attention a number of converging associations to pro- 
duce what is wanted. If the original act of apperception was 
one of mental connection, of analysis and synthesis, this pro- 
duction will easily occur. 

§4. IMAGINATION. 

Of all the stages of intelligence, Imagination is the least 
capable of direct training. As reasons for this fact, may be 
mentioned, (i) its free character, (2) its individual nature and 
(3) the unconscious mode of its growth. 

1. hnagination is free in that it is not bound down by any 
external laws. It is not, like perception and memory, under 
constraint to actual experience ; nor to logical rules like think- 
ing. Objects of perception may be put before a pupil and he 
can be directed as to what and how to see, — and the resulting 
perceptions can be tested by questioning. Lessons to memo- 
rize may be given the student, and he can be examined to find 
out what he remembers. But the pupil cannot be told to 
imagine, cannot have rules laid down for him to follow, cannot 
be examined on the results of his imaginings. The free nature 
of imagination puts it beyond such external direction and re- 
straint. 



102 IMAGINATION. 

2. Imagination is personal, individual, taking its spring in 
feeling and desire rather than from information or logical pro- 
cesses. Its birthplace is in what is most intimate to the soul 
itself; it is the reflex of hope, love, reverence and admiration. 
Thus it cannot be pried into from without; nor can it be 
greatly stimulated from without, excepting by awakening the 
feelings. A child's imagination is often so deeply personal that 
it cannot be treated with too great reserve ; too close scrutiny 
or guidance is violation of the child's personality. 

3. Imagination does not grow by the conscious following of 
certain methods, or from the formal study of certain subjects, 
but by unconscious steps. It grows with the development of the 
child in power of feeling and desiring; it grows by what it 
feeds upon, beautiful scenes, pictures, poems, ideas, characters. 
Its roots are in the underlying forces of human nature, funda- 
mental instincts and feelings, which rarely come into conscious- 
ness, and which, if forced into consciousness, lose their spon- 
taneity and value. Thus a child questioned about his imagina- 
tion, will often conceal his real fancies entirely, or will pro- 
duce an artificial product, either conventional or strained and 
mawkish in sentimentality. 

The training of the imagination must, therefore, be largely 
indirect. This indirect training may come about ( 1) Through 
cultivation of its modes of expression ; (2) Through cultivation 
of the feelings that find their outlet in imagination, and (3) 
Thr ough presentatio n of material — scenes of nature, works of 
art, fine literature — fitted at once to awaken and guide 
imagination. 

1. It is natural for the imagination to project itself; to 
attempt to embody its images in outward form. These out- 
ward modes of expression may be very largely guided and con- 
trolled without interfering unduly with the inward moods and 
dispositions whence they flow. Drawing, modelling, designing, 



IMAGINATION. IO3 

even plaiting, sticklaying and machine work, may be made, not 
only means of training the impulses, the sense-organs and the 
functions of intelligence, but also the imagination. Composi- 
tion-work and essay-writing are means which should not be 
neglected ; the choice of subjects and the mode of treatment, 
both being of importance. 

2. The cultivation of the feelings, which shape the material 
provided by the senses and by memory, and which give rise to 
the ideals that the images try to express, may be treated under 
two heads. 

(1) The Personal Influence of the Teacher.— It 
is feelings of love, of admiration, and of desire for something 
not attained, that underlie imagination in all its higher forms. 
Imagination must be unselfish ; one who is wholly interested in 
his own needs and appetites and in their satisfaction, will not be 
able to get outside of himself, and hence will not be able either 
to produce or to notice external beauty. The emotions and the 
mood, which predispose to imagination, must be left largely to 
the vital influence and personal sympathy of the teacher. The 
enthusiasm and the devotion of the teacher for whatever is 
worthy of admiration, will go further than any set methods. 

(2) The Development of Religious Emotions.— 
The imagination is an idealizing and universalizing power. It 
attempts to clothe all objects with beautiful forms; to find 
them significant of ideals. It takes the mind beyond its own 
experiences of perception and memory into what is general 
what has no concern with private enjoyments. Imagination 
thus tends to take the mind beyond the present and the appa- 
rent. Hence its kinship to religious emotions and ideas. Early 
religious ideas are at once the product of the imagination and 
the most influential means of forming it. Religious emotions 
reverence, and especially awe, the objects of religious worship, 



104 IMAGINATION. 

especially the great personalities of religion, if rightly presented 
to a child, call out imagination more than almost anything else. 

3. Imagination must have material to feed upon. Imagina- 
tion is the outgrowth of perception and memory, and unless these 
supply a rich and varied material, it will be defective or un- 
healthy. While originating in the emotions, imagination should 
not feed upon them, but upon outward objects, scenes and 
ideas ; imagination which both springs from and lives upon the 
emotions will be morbid and unhealthy. Material proper for 
imagination to work on may be classified as follows : 

(1) Natural Scenes. — Taking children into the woods, to 
lakes and mountains, calling their attention to sunsets, clouds 
and all the forms of animate and inanimate nature, are highly 
important. The beautifying of the school-room with flowers 
with works of art, etc., the inculcation of care for whatever is 
beautiful, are means that tell with great effect. An im 
portant step in the training of imagination is taken when a child 
realizes that a beautiful object, simply because it is beautifuh 
should not be destroyed, or sacrificed to his own needs. 

(2) Studies like Geography and History.— These 
studies take the pupil beyond himself, one in the direction of 
space, the other of time. They should be taught almost as 
much as means of widening and deepening the imagination, as 
of furnishing the mind with information. 

(3) The Study of Literature. — The products of the 
imagination of the race, as embodied in literature, are perhaps 
the most influential means of training the imagination. For 
young children, that literature is the best which is the uncon- 
scious product of races and of peoples rather than of the con- 
scious invention of individuals. Fairy tales, folk-lore, myths? 
historic epics, and traditions are natural and healthy. There 
is a connection between the childhood of the race and of the 



TRAINING OF THINKING. 105 

individual that makes such literature peculiarly appropriate for 
the imaginations of youthful minds. As the child grows ol der 
he should be introduced, of course, to more conscious literary 
products, the preference being given to such as are narrative 
rather than subjective. Sir Walter Scott will appeal to chil- 
dren whom Shelley or Wordsworth will leave untouched. 
Upon the whole, also, preference should be given to literature 
produced as literature, rather than to works of imagination pro- 
duced express cy for children. 

§ 5. THINKING. 

The stage of intellectual development next higher than imagi- 
nation is thinking. It is important for the teacher to notice that 
the training of thinking may be either direct or indirect ; that 
is, it may be by means whose specific end is the development 
of reasoning power, or it may be by methods, which in them- 
selves, are directed toward the development of other powers, 
but which, nevertheless, tend towards the education of th ought. 

1. Indirect Training. — Thinking, since it is not an iso- 
lated faculty, but a stage of mental development, must have 
implied within it the same mental processes (association and 
attention), the same mental functions (analysis and synthesis) as 
perception, memory and imagination. Of necessity, therefore, 
any correct trainitig of perception, etc., is at the same time a train^ 
ing_ of the power of thinking. There is no abstract faculty of 
thinking, that is no faculty apart from what is thought about : 
there is simply the power of dealing with certain kinds of mental 
relations and products, and this is an outgrowth, a development 
of preceding powers. These statements may be illustrated in 
more detail by considering the relations of the various mental 
stages to (r) generalization, (2) relation, (3) retention. 

(1) Generalization. —Thinking is, as previously shown, 
generalizing; it is dealing with the universal factor. The 



106 TRAINING OF THrNKING. 

general factor is implied or involved in the lower stages. It is 
a mistake to suppose that there are two kinds of knowledge, 
one particular, the other general. There are two factors, one 
particular, the other general, in every kind of knowledge, and 
thinking differs from perception only in the more explicit de- 
velopment and conscious recognition of the universal factor. 
When we perceive that this something now before us is a book, 
we generalize or classify. We bring this particular thing under 
a wider class or genus, and ascribe to the particular the relations 
which the genus or class possesses. There is involved, there- 
fore, in the simplest perception an unconscious recognition at 
least, of the identity of the present experience with something 
else. This generalization is also a process of reasoning. We 
conclude, or infer, that this something is a book, because of cer- 
tain similarities between what is presented and the general no- 
tion of book. 

(2) Relation. — Thinking is comparison with a view to 
recognizing relations, identity and difference. It involves con- 
scious analysis and conscious synthesis. These functions appear 
in thinking as induction and as deduction — induction being the 
recognition of the one common law, in the midst of diverse, 
particular facts ; deduction, the application of the general law to 
some particular fact as a case coming under it. Liduction 
begins with particulars and advances to the universal relation 
implied within them; as when Newton advanced from the 
study of particular heavenly bodies to the discovery of the law 
of gravitation. Deduction begins with the universal and brings 
some particular under it, as when we say that since the law of 
gravitation applies to all heavenly bodies, it must apply to 
some newly discovered comet, although we have not discovered 
as matter of observation, that it does apply. Now, since all 
knowledge requires the functions of discrimination and identi- 
fication, and induction and deduction are only the higher de- 
velopments of these functions, all knowledge is, to some degree^ 
a preparation for reasoning. 



TRAINING OF THINKING. 107 

^3) Retention. — There goes on, in retention, an uncon- 
scious assimilation which groups facts about some common 
centre and according to some common principle. Every one 
has had the experience of learning some branch of study, as 
algebra, without having comprehended all of it ; but a year or 
two later, upon returning to this subject, it appears clear and 
even simple. The facts seem to have fallen into their right 
relations, and to be just what they should be. In other words, 
the results of thinking have been obtained, and this without the 
conscious exercise of thought. This would not have occurred, 
indeed, had the algebraic knowledge lain inert in the mind, but 
the use of it, the employment of relations similar to those 
learned in algebra, have performed for us what thinking would 
perform. This result inevitably follows, whenever knowledge 
once appropriated, is afterwards used. The relations implied 
within it become explicit ; perception and memory, in other 
words7 have grown into reason. 

From the facts that knowledge retained and organically as- 
simulated becomes thought ; from the facts that generalization 
and relation are involved in all mental stages, we gather this 
law : The power of reasoning is a natural and necessary growth 
from the powers of perception, memory and imagination, provided 
these are trained rationally, that is according to true psychological 
principles. 

2. Direct Training. — Not all subjects, however, call forth, 
to the same extent, the processes of generalizing and relating, 
and the power of organic assimilation. Among the subjects 
which call them forth the most, and thus give the best training 
of thought, may be mentioned langifage and science. 

1. Language. — There is a common educational precept that 
needs careful interpretation, namely, " Teach things, not words." 
Its only proper meaning is that mere words, or sounds, should 
not be taught, but that with the word, the meaning for which 



108 TRAINING OF THINKING. 

it stands should be taught. So far as the principle seems to 
imply that the development of language is not of the greatest 
importance, for the sake of the knowledge of things, as well 
as for its own account, the principle is erroneous. Proper train- 
ing in words is, in and of itself, one of the most effective me- 
thods of training thought. This may be shown (i) with regard 
to the employment of words themselves, (2) with regard to 
their combination in sentences, and (3) with regard to the com- 
bination of sentences. 

(1) Words. — Every common noun is general ; it names a 
class and not an individual. Every adjective expresses quality, 
and quality is general ; quality is the basis upon which classes 
are constoucted. Every verb expresses a mode of action, or of 
being, and this again is general ; ' to be/ ' to run,' ' to study,' 
are not particular things, but relations. When a child learns 
such words (not the sounds, but the words') he is necessarily 
performing, although only unconsciously, acts of generalization. 
When an infant learns the word 'dog,' not only does the object, 
the thing, become more definite, because he has now a means 
of specifying that object, but he performs an act of classification. 
He apprehends, however roughly, the properties possessed by 
all animals of this class. 

(2) Sentences. — Grammar is the logic of language. Every 
structure in language is objectified thought. The unit of 
sructure is the sentence, and this corresponds to the unit 
of thought, the judgment. In a judgment a relation is af- 
firmed, or an act of thought is completed, some connection 
between a universal and a particular is stated. A sentence but 
manifests this connection, and, if the meaning of the sentence 
is understood, it req 'res, however imperfectly, the action of the 
same functions of analysis and synthesis that are involved in 
judgment. 



*RAINING Of THINKING. 16$ 

(3) Combination of Sentences. — Reasoning is termed, logi- 
cally, discourse. This is the consecutive employment of sen- 
tences upon some subject, and is, in substance, a process of 
reasoning. While the statements of a book are not arranged 
in successive syllogisms, they are none the less arranged, if the 
book has any system or order, upon logical principles. There is 
reason in the presentation, that is, there is classification, group- 
ing, selection, movement towards some end. If a pupil really 
reads, that is, if he appropriates the meaning, the thought in 
what he reads, he himself thinks, for he reproduces the connec- 
tion, the order and the subordination of ideas. 

2. Science. — Scientific knowledge is, of course, the most 
perfect expression of orderly thought It is conscious and 
explicit statement of relations, of groups of relations, of refer- 
ence of fact to law, and law to fact. In each step of science, 
description, classification, explanation, reasoning is concerned. 
If then the pupil studies science as he should, that is if he 
really reproduces what he learns so as to know what it means, 
he is training his thinking powers. Scientific study, therefore, 
should be not only the memorizing of facts, or even the train- 
ing of observation, but the development of thought. If, on the 
one side, the scientific material is properly presented, and if, on 
the other side, the pupil really appropriates it, or makes it his 
own, the education of the thinking powers will surely be 
attained. Natural science gives the best training of the anal- 
ytic or inductive powers, mathematical science of the synthetic 
or deductive. 



tio forms of emotional development. 

CHAPTER V. 

THE FORMS OF EMOTIONAL DEVELOPMENT. 

We have completed our study of intellectual development, 
and turn now to the growth of Feeling. Since the same processes 
of attention and association underlie it, and since its develop- 
ment is analogous to that of the intellect, it may be treated with 
comparative brevity. It may also be mentioned at the outset 
that the training of feeling is so largely personal and indirect 
that the educator must be left for the most part to apply his 
own knowledge of the psychology of the subject without de- 
tailed suggestions as to method. The subject may be conveni- 
ently treated under the head of I., Conditions of Interest, or of 
Emotional Development; II. The Principles of Growth; III., 
The Resulting Forms. 

I, Conditions of Interest. — The most general law of 
interest is that feeling accompanies exercise or activity. Feeling 
is excitation, and implies, accordingly, stimulation and response 
to stimulus in some activity. If the activity is free and unim- 
peded, if it results in increasing activity, the feeling is pleas- 
urable. If the activity is hindered, either from internal de- 
fects, or from external obstacles, if it decreases the amount of 
energy that may be put forth, the feeling is painful. Since 
feeling accompanies activity, its traits are dependent upon the 
nature of the activity, and this dependence will now be 
discussed. 

i. Spontaneity. — As just said, pleasure is the result of free 
activity. It is an ultimate law of mind, both in its higher 
aspects and in its connection with the body through the senses 
and the impulses, that it strives to express itself. It has an 
internal tendency towards action, and this is stimulated by every 
impression made upon it. Whatever calls forth this activity, or 
whatever increases it, interests by that very fact. Interest is 



FORMS OF EMOTIONAL OEVELOPMEN*. Ill 

the accompaniment of the spontaneous self-activity of the child. 
This principle transcends almost all others in educational im- 
portance. The child's mind must be aroused from within and 
his own activity called upon, if he is to be interested in any 
subject. 

2. Strength of Activity. — All materials of study, regarded 
from the standpoint of the pupil, are a stimulus, a challenge to 
his own powers. The stimulus must, therefore, be properly 
adjusted to these powers. Too weak stimuli — that is, too easy 
material — do not call out enough activity to be interesting; 
too strong stimuli, the mind cannot respond to. Very slight 
stimuli often irritate the mind ; each seems to call for activity, 
and yet it does not call loud enough to get an answer. Slight, 
repeated excitations have the effect of distracting mental activity, 
while intense ones fatigue and finally exhaust it. Strength of 
stimulus is thus a relative term, depending upon the mind's 
power of response. The stimulus which calls forth as much of 
the mind's activity as is possible without straining it, is of 
proper strength and awakens the most interest. 

3. Change of Activity. — A stimulus which the mind has 
wholly responded to, ceases to be a stimulus, and calling forth no 
more activity, it awakens no more interest. Hence the need 
of change, of alternation in studies and in modes of present- 
ing them. That a subject is monotonous means that the 
mind has already exercised itself in that direction as far as 
is possible. When a teacher detects signs of monotony, 
it is time for him to vary something. He must appeal to 
the mind from a new side, and, awakening new activity, call 
out new interest. Constant activity in one direction, also, if 
the mind does not succeed in answering the challenge of the 
stimulus, produces mental fatigue, and thus lowering disposable 
energy, lowers interest It is a well-known fact that if the eye 
gazes upon the color red for a time and then turns to green, 



tti frofcMS Ofr EkOTlOttAt DEVELOPMENT. 

the green seems brighter than it otherwise would seem. The 
nerves being fatigued in one direction, give stronger impres- 
sions in another. This law prevails in education, and the 
teacher should avail himself of it by providing for due al- 
ternation of activities ; first an activity of the senses, then one 
of memory, then of bodily impulses, like gymnastics, etc, 
then an appeal to imagination, etc. 

4. Harmony of Activities. — Activity is more permanent and 
wider in the degree in which it is harmonious. Harmony is 
defined as a unity made up of a variety. Variety which has 
no unity interrupts and distracts the mind ; unity which ha^ 
no variety within it is, as just seen, monotonous and dead. 
But the co-operation of various factors, having some common 
end and meaning, calls forth one activity, and yet an activity 
which manifests itself in a great many directions. Each ac- 
tivity supports and stimulates every other. Hence there, 
arises a permanent and ever-growing interest. There is no 
more practical problem in the school-room than how to at- 
tain the due adjustment of unity in variety. The subjects 
must be brought into relation with one another, and the various 
facts and principles of the same subject must be united, but 
yet the mind must not be kept dwelling too long upon bare 
unity. The best method, in general, of solving the problem 
and thus keeping interest awake and increasing, is to start from 
some centre and then develop facts, principles, subjects from 
that. The common centre ensures unity of activity ; the various 
branches developed from it ensure variety and growth. 

II. Principles of Emotional Growth. — The de- 
velopment of the interests from their original form into com- 
plex products, is analogous to the intellectual development al- 
ready traced. It begins with immediate sensuous states, and 
advances by idealizing them into more universal, and at the 
same time more distinct forms. What has been said on the 



FORMS OF EMOTIONAL DEVELOPMENT. J13 

principles of intellectual thus hold good very largely of emo- 
tional development. Instead of repeating these principles, we 
need only call attention to some of their aspects, 

1. The Widening of Feeling. — Feeling is originally limited in 
scope and significance. The early feelings spring from the 
senses and do not extend their value beyond the time in which 
they are experienced, or beyond the individual who has them. 
A feeling of taste, or of smell, or of hunger, is personal in the 
narrowest and most exclusive sense of the term. But gradually 
emotions take a wider bearing and value. 

(a) Transference. — This widening of feeling occurs first, 
through what may be called the transference of feeling. 
Feeling which intrinsically belongs to some one presentation 
passes over into whatever is associated with it. The pleasure 
which a child gets from his food is extended to the utensils 
used, formerly indifferent, and to the person who gives the 
food. The interest which a child has in gaining the appro- 
bation of a parent or a teacher, is widened into interest in the 
study or occupation which was at first simply a means of gain- 
ing approbation. The pleasure which a child takes in mere 
activity, physical and mental, becomes transferred to the ob- 
jects upon which the activity is exercised. 

(b) Widening through Unconscious Sympathy. — The widening 
appears oftentimes to be purely instinctive and reflex ; a child 
becomes interested in matters simply because those about him 
are interested in them. The child unconsciously puts himself 
in the place of others, and thereby widens his ' interest to the 
horizon of others. A child's games generally follow the busi- 
ness of his parents. Almost all children play " keep house " 
and " school." These plays simply witness to the fact that the 
child's feelings are being colored by his contact with others, and 
that he is desirous of making their wider life his. 

H 



114 FORMS OF EMOTIONAL DEVELOPMENT. 

(c) Widening through Conscious Sympathy or Love. — The 
most important method (at least from the teacher's standpoint) 
of widening emotional life, is arousing personal sympathy and 
love. This is an outgrowth of the second principle. If a child 
really cares for his parent or his teacher, he is perforce inter- 
ested in what he sees them to be interested in. This is not the 
result of desire to gain praise, but the result of an identification 
of feeling with them, so that whatever affects them affects him. 
The moulding and transforming influence some teachers pos- 
sess, is due more largely to their power to make their pupils 
share their interests, than to anything else. And this power to 
communicate interest arises in the admiration and regard of the 
pupil for the teacher's personality. It is a vital and personal 
force. 

2. Deepening of Feeling. — Interests at first are not only limit- 
ed, but they are transitory and unstable. Their development 
consists in making them fixed, instead of fickle ; deep, instead 
of superficial. 

{a) Repetition. — This deepening results very largely from 
repetition, coming under the general law that exercise 
strengthens function, while disuse weakens it. A feeling con- 
stantly restrained from expression is starved ; one always 
allowed to give itself outward form, is deepened. A feeling 
may be developed, first, by constantly presenting material 
that will evoke it, and, secondly, by allowing it to act upon 
this material whenever present. Thus, the sentiment for 
beauty is deepened when beautiful objects are always at hand 
to stimulate it, and when the sentiment is allowed and en- 
couraged to re-act upon the stimulus. On the other hand, the 
disposition to anger dies out when persons and objects that 
would excite it, are kept away from the child, or when, although 
they are present, the child is not allowed to manifest anger. 

{b) Co-operation. — Besides repetition, the teacher may rely 
upon co-operation of feelings. Feelings of similar kind 



FORMS OF EMOTIONAL DEVELOPMENT. I15 

strengthen one another; for example, to train one moral feeling, 
like truthfulness, will generally be found to deepen others, like 
reverence and purity. On the other hand, it is generally diffi- 
cult to uproot any feeling by acting upon it alone. Another and 
antagonistic feeling must be called into play, which by superior 
strength shall drive away the feeling it is desired to displace. 
The habit of anger is more easily corrected by getting the 
child under the influence of motives of love, than by negative 
injunctions not to give way to anger. 

The result of the deepening of feeling is the formation of dispositions, moods 
and emotional tendencies. There is such a thing as emotional character, 
manifesting itself in fixed capacities and active tendencies, as well as intel- 
lectual or volitional character. The principle of retention covers the life 
of feeling. 

III. The Forms, or Stages, of Feeling. — These may 

be classified as Intellectual, Aesthetic, and Personal, according 
to the order of increasing significance (or representative charac- 
acter) and of increasing universality and definiteness. 

1. Intellectual Feelings. — These are such as lead to the ac- 
quiring of knowledge, or as result from its positive acquisition. 
The intrinsic feelings that induce a child to intellectual activity 
are wonder and curiosity. A distinction may be made between 
these two terms : Wonder is the feeling the mind always has 
(or should have) in presence of the unknown. It is the feel- 
ing, that a universe of objects is before the mind calling upon 
it for action. It is the feeling that intelligence is challenged 
into activity to discover what is presented. It is thus a per- 
manent feeling or back ground of emotion. It is an active 
feeling ; that is, it serves as a stimulus to the intellectual pro- 
cesses to put themselves forth and master what evokes wonder. 
It has been termed the " mother of science and philosophy^' 

It has been said that while the customary and the familiar cease to excite 
wonder in the ordinary mind, it is a mark of genius that it wonders at 
the familiar as well as at the novel. It should be one result of education 
to keep alive the feeling that there is, in every experience, something won- 
derful, something which demands attention and inquiry. 



IID FORMS OF EMOTIONAL DEVELOPMENT. 

Curiosity. — This is not a feeling that can be awakened by 
every experience, but only by an occurrence which goes against 
what was expected. When the mind takes it for granted that 
something is thus and so, and then finds it to be otherwise, 
there is the feeling of surprise. This awakens curiosity to find 
an explanation for the puzzling fact. Curiosity has both a good 
and a bad sense. In the good sense, it is desire of investigation, 
to discover what the fact is. In the bad sense, it is desire of in- 
vestigation in order to satisfy some personal or selfish interest. 
In its good sense, curiosity is one of the most potent allies of 
the teacher. The teacher should endeavor so to educate it 
that it may pass into openness and disinterestedness of mind. 
Some minds seem shut to all new ideas and hard and. rigid in 
structure, others are flexible and open to new ideas, and hence 
never cease mental growth. 

Feelings of Acquisition. — As the two relations implied in 
knowledge are identity and difference, there are two corres- 
ponding emotions which arise. Every identification of ideas 
apparently diverse, is accompanied by a peculiar thrill of satis- 
faction : a feeling of harmony and of expansion. Every dis- 
tinction is accompanied by a feeling of clearness and light in 
place of confusion and darkness. These feelings together give 
a sense of self-command, of power and of intellectual freedom. 
It has been said that the great advantage of education is not so 
much the information it gives, as the sense it affords that we 
are not deceived. True education, in other words, gives a sense 
of control over ideas and objects, instead of a sense of being at 
their mercy. The educated mind feels that it has the power 
to deal with facts, to discover the relations of identity and dif- 
ference among them ; in other words, to distinguish the reality 
from the appearance, and so avoid being deceived. The 
sense of power which the acquisition of knowledge awakens is 
one of the most potent allies of the teacher. It shows itself 



FORMS OF EMOTIONAL DEVELOPMENT. I17 

in the earliest stages. The child who has learned to put 
together easy words, to make simple numerical combinations 
has gained a sense of capacity which rewards him for past 
effort and stimulates him to new activity. Studies which are 
too difficult or which are meaningless do not permit the pupil 
to master them, and thus deprive the teacher of this ally. 

II. Aesthetic Feelings. — These may be defined as emo- 
tions arising from the apperception of an ideal element embodied in 
some form of reality. In the beautiful object there seems to be a 
balance, an equivalence of the real and the ideal. There is 
presentation, some sensible object, and there is representation, 
for embodied in the presentation is an ideal value or signifi- 
cance. It differs from an object of scientific knowledge because 
in the latter the presentation serves only as a symbol to suggest 
the idea ; while in the beautiful object, the idea is so embodied 
in the presentation that no distinction can be made between 
them. It requires activity of the reasoning power to get at the 
ideal factor in science ; while the conscious activity of thinking 
must be excluded from a recognition of beauty. The beautiful 
object, in other words, is an object of perception, not of con- 
ception. 

Factors of the Beautiful Object. — It is impossible to tell 
beforehand just what particular qualities an object which 
awakens aesthetic feeling will possess, for the very reason that 
this object is an embodiment of imagination in perceptual form, 
and not of reasoning in a symbol. But in general every beau- 
tiful object has adaptation, economy, harmony and freedom. 

1. Adaptation. — By adaptation is meant such inter-relation of 
parts as expresses some one meaning, or serves some one end. 
There may be either external or internal adaptation. In ex- 
ternal adaptation, the arrangement of parts is such as to render 
the object useful for something beyond itself. It serves an 
outside purpose ; thus a tool, a piece of machinery, is sub- 



Il8 FORMS OF EMOTIONAL DEVELOPMENT. 

servient to something beyond itself. So, too, a poem which is 
meant to convey some moral lesson, is adapted to this ex- 
traneous end. In internal adaptation no outside purpose is 
subserved. In every living being, there is complete adaptation 
of parts to one another and to the whole. But this adaptation 
is for the sake of the living being itself; it is identical with its 
own structure ; it serves its own purpose, and not anything 
outside. So far as adaptation is external, the object is useful 
but not beautiful ; when it is internal, however useful it may 
be, the object is beautiful. 

2. Economy. — There is another method of stating the same 
principle. Where some one end is reached by the co-operation 
of members and the members co-operate to bring about the 
richest end with the least waste and in the simplest way, there 
is beauty. Economy is not to be mistaken for poverty, or 
sparseness. It implies rather fullness, and abundance, but it 
implies that this fullness means something in all its details, that 
there is nothing superfluous. Grace, whether of existence or 
of action, always means that the result is reached with the 
slightest expenditure of means, with no perceptible effort ; 
while' clumsiness, awkwardness, always shows that the result is 
not easily and economically reached, 

3. Harmony. — This signifies many members constituting a 
unity. A regular form, a picturesque landscape, a pleasing 
poem or statue or painting, always possesses proportion, 
harmonious adjustment of parts. In a beautiful object there is 
sub-ordination and coordination ; there is a central figure about 
which others are grouped ; there is a leading motive to which 
others are tributary ; there is perspective, etc. 

4. Freedom. — The very fact that the adjustment or harmony 
serves no external end, implies that it is free or unconstrained. 
Life is more beautiful than what is inanimate; indeed, when we 
find nature or some of its forms beautiful, it is because we 



FORMS OF EMOTIONAL DEVELOPMENT. 119 

attribute to them a life of their own. There are law and order 
in the beautiful object ; even the most irregular and apparently 
capricious piece of music is based upon mathematical and 
physical laws ; but the law is internal ; the beautiful object 
appears as living law, not as a lifeless object obeying some law 
outside itself. On account of this freedom, aesthetic activity 
partakes of the nature of play ; it is activity which has its end 
in its own manifestation. 

Factors Of Aesthetic Feeling.— If we turn from the beautiful ob- 
ject to the feeling which it awakens, we find that aesthetic feeling has a 
certain universality and ideality. From these characteristics it follows that 

(i) The lower senses do not have any i??iportant place in art. — Tasting and 
smelling may produce agreeable sensations, but not emotions of beauty. 
Such presentations have no universal value ; they are of worth only to the 
organism that has them, and only while it has them. They are sen- 
suous and particular. 

(2) Aesthetic feeling must exclude the feeling of ownership. — The beautiful 
object can be owned, but not its beauty. Every feeling that enters into aes- 
thetic enjoyment must be capable of being shared by all who witness the 
object. Aesthetic feeling is unselfish. 

III. Personal Feelings.— These may be defined to be 
such as arise from the relations of self-conscious beings to one an- 
other. They may be classified as Social, Moral and Religious, 
in the order of the increasing width of relations involved. 

i. Social Feelings. — These come under the general heads : 
regard for others and regard for self. These are not necessarily 
exclusive, although, of course, they may become so. But re- 
gard for self is a social feeling, as much as regard for others, 
because the self has no meaning except in relation to others. 
An absolutely isolated self would be no self at all. The recog- 
nition of " me " and " mine " implies a related " thee " and 
"thine." 

(a) Feelings for Self. — The root of all feelings that gather 
about one's own self is interest in one's own existence. Love of 



120 FORMS OF EMOTIONAL DEVELOPMENT. 

property, a desire for fame, regard for one's rights — or what one 
may demand from others — feelings of self-respect and humility 
— all personal emotions— have a common source in the desire 
to affirm or express the self. Interest may be taken in the self 
as physical, or as intellectual, as moral, as in relative union with 
or isolation from others, and from these various sides of self 
arise the various forms of personal feelings. The love of pro- 
perty, for example, arises from the desire to affirm one's being or 
will in control over material nature, and thus indirectly over 
others. The love of power and influence is the desire to extend 
personality beyond the limits of the body, and to realize it in 
the deeds and thoughts of others. In itself this desire to 
affirm or express one's own being is neither moral nor immoral. 
It may become the source of the highest and purest achieve- 
ments of humanity, or of its most vicious and degraded acts, 
according to the direction which is given to it. 

(b) Feelings for Others. — These, as they are friendly or hos- 
tile, are sympathetic or antipathetic. In both, there is an identi- 
fication, conscious or unconscious, of the state of mind of others 
with our own ; in one case, we find this state repulsive, while 
in the other, if not agreeable, yet a. possible state of our own. 

Origin Of Sympathy. — Sympathy has its origin in the 
contagious character of feeling. Laughing and crying are both 
"catching." A person is depressed, if he goes into an atmos- 
phere of sorrow, even if the sorrow does not touch him personal- 
ly, or even if he does not know the cause of the grief. Children 
are constantly manifesting such sympathy. Babies in their 
second year cry or " make believe " to cry when they see others 
grieved, while quite early in the first year there is a smile, that 
cannot be other than reflex, responsive to the mother's smile. 
This imitative sympathy is a factor which the teacher may 
largely rely upon, especially with younger pupils. It is also the 
psychological fact which lies back of class-work as opposed to 



FORMS OF EMOTIONAL DEVELOPMENT. 121 

individual treatment. The teacher knows that every school 
and even every class has its own peculiar atmosphere and 
coloring; and this results from the contagion of emotion. 
Many a child that has refused to study or learn when trained 
alone at home has "taken a start " as soon as he went to 
school through the influnce of his fellow pupils upon him. 
This feeling possessed by groups of persons may be disciplined, 
and then it becomes esprit de corps— as important a help to the 
teacher as to the officer. 

Development of Sympathy. — Higher than reflex sym- 
pathy, however, is active sympathy, which in addition to 
reproducing states of another, recognizes that they belong to 
another. We must first, indeed, make the feeling our own, 
but must then make it another's. To have true sympathy with 
a man suffering from poverty, for example, we must feel in 
ourselves somewhat as he feels, but we must also realize that 
he actually has those feelings, those sufferings, and the latter 
factor is practically much more important than the former. 
Many philanthropists appear very callous to the feelings of 
others, while persons who are most sensitive in reproducing 
feelings of others, are sometimes least ready in removing the 
causes of their sufferings. The fact that we have taken our 
illustrations from sympathy with sorrows should not mislead 
the student ; sympathy is with joy as well as with grief, it is 
with every feeling of another. 

2. Moral Feelings. — A complete account of these emotions be- 
longs to ethics rather than to psychology, but a statement of their 
origin and contents is in place here. They are, psychologically, 
an outgrowth of social feelings, particularly of sympathy. They 
contain, as factors, feelings of Tightness, of obligation, and of 
approval or disapproval. Reversing the natural order, we shall 
take up first the contents and then the origin of moral feelings. 

Contents of Moral Feeling. — The feeling of right-ncss is the 



[22 FORMS OF EMOTIONAL DEVELOPMENT. 

feeling that a certain act, say truth-telling, is in harmony with 
the ideal of personality, while its opposite contradicts, and in so 
far, destroys the true personality. It is a personal feeling, there- 
fore, because it deals with the relations of states of mind and of 
acts to personality. An act felt to be right is also felt to be 
obligatory. Thus the feeling that one ought to be what 
ideally one may be. Something is due to the ideal personality ; 
one is bound to do everything possible to make it real, and 
hence all acts contributing to its realization are felt as duties, 
something due or owed. A right act or character calls forth 
approbation ; a wrong one, disapprobation, or, if the act is 
our own, remorse. Approbation is the pleasure which spon- 
taneously arises upon feeling the harmony of real and ideal 
cha? deter, just as aesthetic pleasure spontaneously arises upon 
perceiving the harmony of real and ideal in an object. 

Origin of Moral Feeling. — As already said, it grows out 
of social feeling. Sympathy in its highest form, is interest in 
everything which concerns the interests of personality ; it is unity 
of interest, the realization that a group of persons has a common 
relation to a common good, and that this good is, therefore, to 
be shared by all. It thus becomes love, which not only feels 
the experience of others, but is actively interested in making 
those loved sharers in whatever is good. In this way, begin- 
ning with a sympathy which is purely natural, even having 
a physical basis, arises an ethical sympathy. Love becomes 
the source of moral groups or communities. The family, for 
example, while made up of distinct persons, parents and chil- 
dren, has a common good, and hence a common interest and 
purpose. A moral community is one in which there is felt to 
be some common end, or good, and where there is felt the 
need of realizing it in every member of the community. 

Ethical Basis Of the School.— The school is, both histori- 
cally and philosophically, the expansion, the continuation of the 



FORMS OF EMOTIONAL DEVELOPMENT. 1 . 3 

family. It is the connecting link between the family and a higher 
ethical community, the general social order. Thus the school 
is, both historically and philosophically, the preparation for the 
community and the state. 

These propositions give the ethical basis and function of 
the school, as a distinct organization having education in its 
charge. The school is a definite social and moral organization ; 
it aims, like the family, at the highest development or good of 
each of its members ; like the family, it attempts to reach this 
end by definite training, authority and order imposed from 
without. It prepares each of its members for membership in a 
larger community, where each takes charge of his own develop- 
ment or training, and where he comes in contact with external 
authority only as a restraining, not as an educative or developing 
power. The school, therefore, while, resting on the authority oj 
the family, must train with reference to free citizenship in the state. 
This is the principle which underlies, ethically, the disciplinary 
organization of the school. 

Training of Moral Feeling. — A few specific principles 
may be mentioned, (i) It is generally useless to give abstract 
and didactic moral teaching. It should be connected either with 
something the pupil has actually done, or with social relations 
which he will have to meet in later life, and with which he is 
already somewhat familiar. It is not enough to exhort to do 
right ; it should rather be shown, by examples coming within 
the range of the pupil's experience, what it is that is right. 
Failure of the pupil to do, what he should do, may be made the 
occasion of awakening his own sense of disapprobation and of 
obligation. His interest in business, in politics, may be appeal- 
ed to, and thus he may be interested in the rights and duties 
that spring out of such relations. In other words, moral 
instruction should be concrete not abstract. (2) However it 
may be in the state, the object of punishment in the school i§ 



124 FORMS OF EMOTIONAL DEVELOPMENT. 

the development, the awakening and the strengthening of the 
pupil's own moral nature. Its ultimate aim is the development 
of the sense of obligation, and capacity, through the formation of 
corresponding right habits, for self-control and self-government. 
The thorough recognition and application of this principle would 
do more for our schools than any one can easily imagine. (3) 
The vital motives as interest, sympathy and love, are much more 
effective in securing right conduct than fear, regard for authority, 
or even reverence for abstract law. It has been well said that the 
worst of men probably know as much of what is right as the 
best of men can do. The practical problem is, therefore, the 
cultivation of feelings and dispositions which may be relied 
upon to impel the pupil to right action. 

3. Religious Feeling. — As previously suggested, this is con- 
nected with the imagination. The feeling of a synthesis or 
connection of all natural objects with one another, and of 
the inmost nature of things with ourselves, is a factor con- 
tained, however, dimly and unconsciously, in religious senti- 
ment. And this factor is supplied originally, at least, by the 
imagination. Fused with this, controlling and giving it meaning 
and content, should be factors supplied by moral motives. 
As the result of this -fusion there come feelings of depend- 
ence, of peace, and of trust or faith. The feeling of depend- 
ence has as its intellectual element, the feeling that we are 
only a part of a whole, much wider, more powerful than our- 
selves. As its moral element, it contains the feeling that the 
source of all good, in ourselves and in the world, is a Being 
upon whom we are dependent for power to think and attain 
the good. The feeling of peace, as the factor supplied by 
imagination, has the idea of unity already referred to, the feel- 
ing that the heart of things is one with our nature. The 
moral factor adds the feeling that this peace can be attained 
only through unity with the Being who is perfect Goodness. 



FOKMS OF VOLITIONAL DEVELOPMENT. 1 25 

So of faith. Through the intellectual feeling of our oneness 
with the world, we feel that we can trust it, that we are borne 
along by it. The moral element is that the Being who is perfect 
Goodness is the only ultimate Reality and is the Ideal towards 
which we should strive. This Ideal cannot be seen or felt, or 
made known to the senses, but is to be apprehended by faith. 

No specific methods of cultivating religious emotions can be laid down 
here. As a general principle the teacher should keep in mind that a vague 
form of the religious feeling of unity, is supplied by the imagination, 
although in very varying degrees of strength and intensity in different 
individuals. But to a certain degree this feeling of unity, and desire for it, 
exist in every child, and so far the teacher can assume it as a basis. His 
work is then to give this feeling a moral and personal turn and filling. 

Note. — For the development of feeling in general see Dewey's Psychology, 
pp. 262-295; for intellectual feeling, pp. 296-308 for aesthetic, pp. 309-325; 
for personal, pp. 326-346. 



CHAPTER VI. 

FORMS OF VOLITIONAL DEVELOPMENT. 

As already stated, in the second chapter, the beginning of 
will is impulse. Impulse becomes volition proper by the pro- 
cesses of attention and association working upon it. There are 
no new activities, no new functions, no new laws to be met with 
in the subject of will. Analysis and synthesis play as great 
part here as they do in the intellect ; development is here, as 
there, from the immediate, the particular and the indefinite 
to the ideal, the general and the definite. From the fact, how- 
ever, that the development concerns a different material, the 
impulses, and not the sensations or the interests, certain new 
phases present themselves. 

Contrast of Impulsive and Volitional Action. — 

The characteristics of an act of will may be seen by comparing 
it with an impulsive act. Action originating in impulse is 



120 FORMS OF VOLITIONAL DEVFXOPMENT. 

blind ; that is it does not see its way clear to any end. It 
occurs from a tendency to act, but it does not knew whither 
this tendency leads, towards what it is aiming. A bird builds 
its nest from impulse, without knowing the purpose to be 
reached ; a child when hurt strikes wildly about him without 
having any end in view. When we say that such and such a 
person acts from the impulse of the moment, we mean that that 
person is inclined to act out any impulse that occurs to him 
without looking oeyond the moment in which the impulse takes 
him. Its end is not taken into consideration. Impulsive 
action is thus opposed to intelligent action, the latter being thar 
which has an end in view. 

Uncontrolled. — Another distinction is that impulsive ac- 
tion is uncontrolled.- When we say that a person is a creature of 
impulse, we mean that his conduct is apparently unregulated; 
that it does not evince settled law or order. Action is uncon- 
trolled when the impulse is not measured by some standard and 
its value fixed by the comparison. For example, there is an 
impulse towards speech, but unless this impulse is controlled 
by a standard, the speech will be mere meaningless babble. In 
strictly impulsive action, each impulse has its oivn value, and 
this intrinsic value is sufficient motive for action. Every im- 
pulse is followed, none is suppressed, none is checked, none is 
guided towards any end. Every impulse expresses itself, and 
only itself. But if the impulses are directed towards an end all 
this is changed. The impulse now is not valuable in itself, but 
only so far as it helps to reach the end. If it does not make 
towards the end it is suppressed ; if it does lead towards the 
end, it is connected with others with which it may co-operate ; it 
is thus nowhere allowed to express itself, but only the end, to 
whose law it is subjected. In other words, it is controlled. 

The Conception of End. — It is evident, therefore, that 
what makes the difference between impulsive and volitional 
action is the conception of an end. Impulse is blind, because it 



FORMS OF VOLITIONAL DEVELOPMENT. 12 7 

has no purpose, no end in view ; it is uncontrolled far the 
same reason. Volitional action has an end in view, and this 
end controls and subordinates all the steps of the activity. 
Volition is impulses controlled and harmonized by the conception 
of an end. In studying will, we have to study the development 
of the idea of an end, and the ways in which the idea becomes 
actual. 

Illustration. — Take as an example of volitional action, the 
building of a house. This is the end of action. In the first 
place, there must be an idea of this end, the builder or the 
architect must have a plan. The clearer and the more definite, 
the more detailed the plan, the more orderly and efficient will 
be the work. But at this stage, the end is only an idea. The 
idea must be changed into an actuality ; it must be realized. 
The execution of a purpose, is as necessary, therefore, to com- 
plete volition as the formation of the purpose. We shall (i) 
take up the way in which the purpose, or the idea of an end is 
formed, and (2) the process of its realization. 

1. Beginning of Idea of End. — While an impulsive action 
does not aim at an end, it none the less reaches an end. A 
child grasps after a bright-colored ball, not because he has any 
purpose, but because an impulse has been aroused by the ex- 
citation of the retina of his eye ; but if he grasps the ball an idea 
of the ball, of its feeling, and especially of what can be done 
with it, is formed. The child sees that he can throw it, can 
bound it, etc. The next time he sees the ball, the idea of the 
action that he can perform is "(by the law of association), 
part of his idea of the ball. The sight of the ball thus sug- 
gests or redintegrates the action, and this is accordingly 
performed. 

Illustrations Continued.— No one can watch a baby of the age of 
from one to two years and not be convinced that, to the child's mind, the 
qualities of an object are mostly made up of what he can do with the ob- 
ject, A hat is something to be put upon the head ; a whip something to 



128 FORMS OF VOLITIONAL DEVELOPMENT. 

strike with ; a drawer is something to be drawn out and pushed back, etc., 
etc. His own actions about or with the object constitute his ideas of the 
object ; his knowledge exists in terms of his actions with reference to the 
thing. The idea of an object accordingly always suggests — rather is — to 
him that which he can do, and so the idea of an object passes naturally, or 
even inevitably, into action. 

Completion of Idea of End. — Here we have the transition to 
true volitional action. The action is no longer the mere ex- 
pression of an impulse, but occurs as the accompaniment of an 
idea. The idea which an object awakens is the connecting 
link between the impulse and the action. It is not yet true 
volition, however, because the action does not occur for the sake 
of realizing the idea of an end. But when the child learns that 
there. are a great many things which he can do with an object, 
and that some of these conflict with one another, when he 
learns (mainly through language) that the object has qualities 
independent of his actions, he comes to distinguish between the 
object and what he can do with it. Thus the idea of what he 
can do becomes a distinct idea to him, and so an end in itself. 
He learns that a whip is not something to strike with always 
and under all circumstances ; and he learns also that the act of 
striking is not necessarily connected with a whip. This act, 
therefore, becomes a distinct idea in his mind, and hence a dis- 
tinct end ; while previous to this time it was only one quality 
always suggested by the object. 

Summary. — At first, as Professor James very truly says, 
we do not know what we are going to do until after we have 
done it ; the true nature of the impulse is not revealed until it 
has executed itself. But the act once done the idea of the act 
is ever afterwards associated with the impulse, and hence there 
is an end supplied to that impulse for the future. Thus the im- 
pulses gradually and normally, if they are properly trained, pass 
into volitional action. It is to this point that we now come. 



training ofr Impulses. xao 

Training of Impulses. 

i. The development of the impulses depends upon the develop 
ment of the intellect. — There can be no volitional activity unti 1 . 
there is an idea of an end. The child cannot do until he k?:ow$ 
To quote Professor James again, we might as well ask a mar- 
to give the Choctaw equivalent of some English word, as to ask 
him to perform some action corresponding to which he has no 
equivalent in the way of a mental notion. If, for example, a 
child is to pronounce the word ' cat,' or is to write the word, he 
must first have a mental image and then express it. 

2. Every develop?nent of the impulses results in a training of 
the intellect. — While the foregoing principle is true, it is also 
true that the operation of an, impulse, the reaching of an end is 
necessary to the idea of the end. The child will not have & 
distinct knowledge of the sound of a, for example, until he has. 
made it. At first he imitates the position of the vocal organs 
of his teacher, and by his own activities makes sounds resem- 
bling that of the teacher. Finally he hits the correct sound : 
he has the thrill of identification, and now for the first time he 
truly recognizes or knows the sound in the future, as well as. 
know how to make it. And this but illustrates the general law. 
First, the manifestation of an impulse reaches an end and 
leaves behind the idea of the end ; then this idea is utilized 
as guiding and controlling the impulse. The impulse now 
manifests itself, under the control of an idea, in a more 
definite and complete way, and the idea is further enriched. 
This, in turn, supplies a still more definite end to impulse, 
and so on indefinitely. Thus the development of intellect and 
of impulse is reciprocal. 

3. Knowing and Doing must, therefore, be trained by the same 
processes, and correlatively to each other. — We are now able to 
state the psychological principle which reconciles the two pre- 
cepts already given (pp. 45 and 46), " Lean?, to de by doing,* 
J 



I30 FORMS OF VOLITIONAL DEVELOPMENT. 

s&d <5 Learn to do by knowing." The principles when rightl) 
interpreted include rather than exclude each other. Unless 
we do, we cannot understand the ideas involved in action, much 
less act. And unless we know, we cannot act in a signifi- 
cant; way, in a way which is really expressive of ideas. Apply 
this to the teaching of arithmetic. A child will never under- 
stand an abstract rule or principle until he has acted accord- 
ing to it : until he has embodied it in arithmetical operations ; 
he will never fully understand it until he has repeatedly acted 
upon it, so that he is thoroughly master of it. But, on the 
other hand, his actions will be blind and meaningless, ex- 
cepting he comes to see them as the manifestation of a 
principle. He is, in other words, to " do sums," not for the 
sake of forming a blind habit of " doing sums," but in order to 
understand the rational ideas involved in the operations ; and 
he is to learn the rule and the principles, not for the sake 
of the abstract ideas themselves, but for the sake of power to 
act upon them, for the sake of mastery. There is a similar 
relation between speech, and the laws of language found in 
grammar. These laws cannot be understood apart from the 
action of which, indeed they are only the abstract statement 
The child must " do," must speak and write in order to know 
the laws. But on the other hand, unless the child is brought 
consciously to realize the laws involved in language, he not 
only has nothing by which to test speech, but has no idea of 
its rational basis. Language to him will be a mere meaningless 
tool. 

4. Such a reciprocal training of the Impulses and the Intellect 
renders education. Practical. — There is no need of saying that 
practical does not merely mean commercial, or capable of 
being applied to money-making. Nor does it mean that 
everything learned must be capable of direct application to 
action. It is only in early childhood, while action is still 
Wgely impulsive, that all ideas are converted, upon the spot, 



TRAINING OF IMPULSES. I3J 

into action. But no education is practical which does not, in 
training the intellect, train the will ; which does not, in giving 
knowledge, give ability to act. No graver accusation can be 
brought against any course of education than that it is not 
practical, in the true sense of the term practical. A course of 
school-training which does not fit one for his true life of action, 
is defective, regarded even as training of the intellect, for 
knowledge is not truly knowledge as long as it remains imper- 
sonal, remote from the activities of its possessor, and it is 
yet more defective on the moral side, for he who is not 
trained to rational activity has no preparation for a moral 
life. We have now seen what is the goal of the training of the 
impulses — such a development of them as subordinates them to 
ideas, while ideas are, at the same time, employed to control 
impulses. We may now briefly discuss the means at the com- 
mand of the teacher for reaching the desired goal. 

5. Educational training should be based upon natural impulses 
and interests. — The teacher does not have to create impulses, 
but to utilize those already existing. School life is a develop- 
ment of the instinctive activities, not a creation of new and ar- 
tificial ones. This is a common-place, and yet it may be 
doubted whether any pedagogical precept is more frequently 
violated, or with more harmful results. The artificial atmos- 
phere of some schools, the dislike of pupils for their studies 
(and perhaps for their teachers), the stupidity of some children, 
and the feverish mental activity of others, are too often due to 
the fact that an unreal goal has been set up ; study has become 
something apart from the normal impulses of the pupils, and con- 
sequently factitious and unhealthy methods must be resorted to. 

Pleasure in Training. — Since education is only a training of natural 
impulses, it follows, almost axiomatically, that, if the great mass of pupils do 
not delight in their training as they do in the expression of their natural 
impulses, there is something defective in the educational methods. There 
are, of course, individual exceptions : some children through hereditary, 



t$i Forms of Volitional development. 

home and other influences beyond the teacher's control, do not seem td 
have any tendencies worth mentioning towards knowledge and mental 
activity ; while others are morally so defective that any subjection of im- 
pulses to law and order is irksome and repulsive. But the statement re- 
garding the "great mass" remains true. 

6. These natural impulses are to be subjected to discipline. — 
This again is a normal process, as natural as the expression of 
the impulses. Every impulse tends to reach an end, and the 
end once reached it tends to subordinate itself in the future to 
the control of that end. The teacher simply utilizes this nor- 
mal psychological principle. He employs it in a systematic way 
by overseeing the end towards which the impulses work, and 
by taking care that they work regularly toward these ends. 
The spontaneous self-discipline offered by the tendency of im- 
pulses to subject themselves to the law of their end, is defec- 
tive, first, because there is nothing to ensure that the impulse 
reaches its highest and fullest end, and secondly, because there is 
nothing to ensure that it reaches the end so regularly that the 
tendency to work towards the end shall become a law. Sur- 
rounding influences preclude the impulse manifesting itself to 
its highest capacities, and they preclude anything more than a 
fitful and intermittent activity of it. The teacher supplies 
ends w hichjgall out the fullest manifestation of 
the impulses, and he supplies regular and constant 
means for working towards these ends. This may 
almost be said to exhaust the work of the teacher. 

7. A portion of this discipline consists in external arrange- 
ments. — A child left to spontaneous self-discipline, is left to the 
natural force of the impulses and to chance for their expression. 
A child in school is surrounded with a multiplicity of special 
influences reinforcing the natural strength of the impulses and 
almost ensuring their regular expression. The child is to take 
and to keep a certain place in school : he is to be present at a 
certain hour : to be doing fixed things at fixed times, etc., etc 



TRAINING OF IMPULSES. 133' 

Order is either of space or of time. Punctuality as to time-re- 
lations, and regularity as to place-relations are demanded of 
the pupil. All that comes under the head of the organization and 
administration of the school has for its purpose the ensuring of 
regularity and certainty in the manifestation of the impulses. 
This organization, with all it includes, is a good servant, but a bad 
master. Its true significance is to be tributary to the discipline 
of the pupil — it is a mechanism for a certain end, and the mean- 
ing of mechanical, real as well as etymological, is instrumental. 

8. A portion of the discipline is internal. — The external 
means accompany and render efficient instruction in certain 
subjects. There is a regular recurrence of studies; a fixed 
order in the materials studied as well as in the arrangements 
that induce to study. The educator, through these studies, fur- 
nishes the ends best fitted to guide the impulses into complete ac- 
tivity, and he' gives them orderly and regularexercise. To go into 
details upon the ways in which these studies afford discipline, 
would be to repeat all that has been said upon the training of 
association, attention and the various faculties, and to antici- 
pate all that will be said in the next part upon educational 
praxis. 

9. Discipline accomplishes its purposes when it results in Self- 
control. — The training, to which the impulses are subjected, is 
to become the law of the impulses ; a law internal to them, 
which they manifest, not merely something external to which 
they must conform. The training is to result in a law inherent 
in the impulses, and when this is done there is self-control, 
that is, freedom. It must be repeated that the school-discipline 
is not to repress the impulses, nor to substitute something else 
for them, but to ensure to them their highest activity and de- 
velopment, and this not fitfully but regularly. When disci- 
pline has had this result, freedom takes the place of authority. 
The impulses have again, and in a true and lasting sense, be- 
come a law unto themselves, because they have embodied disci- 



134 FORMS OF VOLITIONAL DEVELOPMENT. 

pline, law ivithin themselves. The person acts both from im- 
pulse and from principle. This ideal may never be reached, 
but it is none the less the teacher's function and duty to aim 
at its realization. 

Idea and Desire. — Aristotle says that volition, or the 
power of originating action, constitutes a man, and that volition 
may be termed either reason that desires or desire that reasons. 
As impulse is blind action, so it is blind desire. It includes 
feeling of want or lack, but it does not know what is wanting ; 
the want thus aims blindly at its own satisfaction. Desire is 
intelligent impulse ; it is want that has become conscious of its 
own nature and of the end that satisfies. Thus volition is desire 
that reasons ; desire that takes account of itself. But, on the 
other hand, a mere idea does not constitute volition. The idea 
of an end will not move to action if the mind is satisfied with 
its present condition. This idea must stir the emotions, must 
influence the feelings— in a word, arouse desire — before there is 
any tendency for it to become more than a mere idea. Thus 
volition is also reason that desires : reason that has ceased to be 
abstract and impersonal, and become emotional and interested. 
So far we have studied only the rational side, the idea ; we 
must now take up the emotional side, the desire. 

Origin of Desires. — In the impulse of a child to seek food, 
to grasp bright objects, to throw them and play with them, 
there is contained a tendency to satisfy some want, whether of 
food for the body or for the senses, or of physical activity. As 
soon as the impulse is manifested, some end is reached which 
satisfies the want to some extent. The child finds the food, he 
seizes the ball, etc. The child who has played with the ball finds 
that it satisfies his previous need of activity. From this time play- 
ing with it is an object of desire with him. If the child sees the 
ball and yet does not play with it, the idea conflicts with reality. 
The idea, moreover, as compared with the reality, is pleasurable ; 
in comparison with it, the present reality does not interest. The 



TRAINING OF DESIRE. 135 

child would rather play with the ball than do what he is doing. 
As long as this state continues there is tension ; there is plea- 
sure so far as the idea of the end is found satisfactory : there is 
pain, so far as the present reality is opposed to the idea. This 
conflict of an idea felt to be satisfactory, with a reality which fails 
to satisfy, constitutes desire. 

The Object of Desire.— It is to be noticed that what 
is desired is not the thing or the activity, nor yet the 
pleasure afforded by them. What is wanted is the satisfaction 
of the self. The thing is desired only because through it the self 
is satisfied j pleasure is wanted only so far as it testifies to 
satisfaction. Pain is an object of desire when it is considered 
to satisfy self better than pleasure. The desires are developed, 
therefore, just in the degree in which the self is developed. 
When the self becomes complex, having many kinds of activities 
and many interests, desires are correspondingly complex. 
When the self becomes aware of its possession of any capa- 
city — of a capacity for finding satisfaction in any direction — 
a desire is awakened. 

Training of Desire. —The impulses must be trained in 
their relation to desire as well as in their relations to an idea. 
Indeed, the complaint sometimes made that school training 
leaves children bright and quick intellectually, but without cor- 
responding moral training, is largely due, so far as it is well- 
based, to lack of training of the desires, or of the emotional 
side of the will. We notice then 

(1) Desires are trained through a development of the emo- 
tional nature ; whatever interests is desired. — The development 
of interests is, therefore, as important for the development of 
will as of intellect. The connection of love and desire is so 
close that, in popular language the terms are identified ; and 
there is this warrant for the identification, that whatever one likes 
one also desires to possess. Sympathy is a powerful coadjutor 



136 FORMS OF VOLITIONAL DEVELOPMENT. 

in training desire. The manifestation of desire by one tends to 
awaken it in another. As soon as a child wants something, his 
playmates generally " want it too," even though it was previously 
indiffeient. Rivalry may sometimes be appealed to in order 
to awaken desire, bat in most cases sympathy is more effective- 
A teacher of string desires will gradually find his pupils reflect- 
ing his own wishes and aversions, while the lack of permanent 
and controlling desires on his part, generally shows itself in the 
school. 

2. Desires are trained by satisfying or failing to satisfy im- 
pulse. — Impulses that are always thwarted die out to some ex- 
tent. Having no expression there is no experience of satisfaction 
to recur in the form of desire. On the contrary, the constant 
arousing and satisfying of some impulse, originally feeble, will 
by the cumulation of images of satisfaction gathering about that 
impulse, strengthen desire. The practical problem with a boy 
called stupid often is to search out and systematically gratify 
some impulse which has never been allowed to express itself. 
This done, definite desire is produced, and the boy is quickened 
into the exertion of his own powers to gain satisfaction in the 
future ; having tasted the fruits of gratification, he never falls 
back into passivity. There is a moral as well as an intellectual 
application of this same principle. A selfish child should be 
made to feel the gratification of satisfying what generous im- 
pulses he does possess ; an untruthful child, the satisfaction of 
stating things as they are, etc. While moral action is not con- 
stituted by action for the sake of gratification, it is often none 
the less true that it is by experiencing gratification from moral 
conduct that the child is led to desire moral conduct for its 
own sake. 

3 Desire is trained by awakening discontent with present at- 
tainments and interest in untried activities. — There is desire 
for anything only when the idea of that thing seems more satis- 
factory than the actual state. To lessen satisfaction with the 



TRAINING OF DESIRE. 1 37 

actual state has, therefore, the same result in awakening desire a* 
to increase the satisfaction of the ideal end. Though a child can- 
not be made to feel the satisfaction of generous conduct, he may 
perhaps be led to realize the unsatisfactory nature of selfish- 
ness. Pupils should be trained to the thought of their possi- 
bilities not yet made actual. Once make a pupil feel that he 
can do something, even if, as yet, he has not done it, and desire 
to do it will be awakened. Hardly anything is more important 
in the personal relation of teacher and pupil than inducing 
the pupil to believe in his own capacities and possibilities. A 
person to whom a new possibility is open, has a new world 
before him. It may be questioned if the transforming influence 
which religion often exercises, is not largely due to the effective 
belief it gives in new and hitherto untried personal possibilities. 
Real belief in the possibility of an achievement is the most 
efficient kind of desire for it 

4. Desire is trained through the cultivation of the imagination. 
— Imagination both widens and strengthens desire. It widens 
it, because it does not leave desire dependent upon the precise 
forms of old satisfaction, but, under the influence of love, hate, 
etc., creates new conceptions — desires for honor, fame or 
wealth, etc Imagination strengthens desire, for, to allow the 
mind to dwell upon any image is to endear it to the mind. 
When we imagine anything we think of it as real, and wish, in 
some degree to make it real. If imagination habitually dwells 
upon some idea, this idea is apt to become the controlling 
desire of the mind. An artist imagines beautiful forms and 
scenes so vividly that he is impelled to produce the realities 
that correspond. By the same principle a child whose mind is 
filled with impure images, is impelled to impure desires and 
actions ; and, fortunately, a child whose imagination is filled 
with graceful, harmonious and pure ideas is stirred to corres- 
ponding desire and activity. The teacher can offer no more 
practical prayer for his pupil than that of Socrates, that he 



138 FORMS OF VOLITIONAL DEVELOPMENT. 

may have " beauty in the inward soul," for this insures al- 
most of itself that the "outward and the inward man be at 
one." 

II. The Realization of the Desired Idea.— We 

have studied the first step in volition : the formation of the 
idea of an end, and of its accompanying feeling of want. 
We have now to study the realization of the idea — the way 
in which it is changed, from an idea into a presentation, into 
an actual fact. If there is but one desired end, the manner 
of realization may be illustrated as follows : The child forms 
the idea of handling a colored ball This idea suggests, by 
contiguous association, that of reaching out the arm and 
grasping the ball ; and thus the end is reached. In other words, 
the idea of the end suggests, by association, the means neces- 
sary for reaching the end. In more complex ends, attention is 
active, rather than association, and first analyzes the end into 
the means or steps which lead up to it, and then combines them 
so as to reach the end. In either case, there is no factor 
involved which has not been previously studied. 

Conflict of Ends and of Desires.— But generally the 
case is not so simple. There is not merely one idea in the mind 
which immediately proceeds to suggest the means of its own 
realization, but there are various ends desired, and these con- 
flict with one another. The child who wishes to play with the 
ball may also wish to look at his picture book, or he may have 
been told not to play with it, and he desires to obey this com- 
mand. One cannot have his cake and eat it too. In case of 
conflict it is out of the question that the desired end work 
itself directly out. Before this can occur the conflict must be 
decided, and some one end emerge as the real end of action. 
The various steps in the settlement of conflict may be stated as : 
deliberation, effort and choice, all together constituting control. 

Deliberation. — The beginning of deliberation is checking, or, 
in technical language, inhibiting the carrying out of action. The 



FORMS OF VOLITIONAL DEVELOPMENT. 139 

child stops or pauses before doing what he wishes to do. 
During the pause, he considers and reflects in the degree in 
which his mental powers are developed, He weighs the value 
of the end proposed, compares it with other ends, and in 
general calls upon all the reasons that would lead to action in 
one direction rather than in another. The process in a child 
is, of course, largely unconscious ; it is not meant that the 
child consciously sets himself to weigh reasons, pro and con, 
regarding an action. But the conflict between desires arrests 
attention, and, the mind dwelling upon the conflict, various 
considerations are suggested by association. 

Effort. — In some cases the child wants to act in one way, 
but feels that he ought to act in another. He wishes to play 
but ought to study, for example. In this case what is desired 
and what is desirable do not coincide. If the child does not 
recognize anything that is desirable, different from what is 
desired, there is no conflict. He continues to do as he 
wishes to do. Or, if the act is not only desirable but desired 
(that is, if duty and evident satisfaction go together) there 
is no conflict ; the child does what he ought to do. But in 
many cases the child recognizes that he ought ti desire one 
action, while he actually desires another. Here effort is required 
It requires effort to arrest action in the direction desired ; it re- 
quires effort to prefer what should be preferred. 

True effort consists in reinforcing by additional ideas, desires 
and motives, the side felt to be the weaker. It may be true that 
action follows the strongest desire, but it is also true that we 
have the power to call up considerations and feelings that 
strengthen and that weaken the force of a desire. The idea of 
obligation itself, if it has been frequently acted upon, becomes a 
very considerable force, and if ideas, images and emotions are 
clustered about the idea of that which ought to be done, it 
gradually becomes not only desirable, but desired, and action 
follows in that direction. 



14° FORMATION OF CHARACTER. 

Choice. — The end of conflict, following deliberation and 
effort, is choice. Choice may be defined as the selection of a 
certain end of action and the identification of self with it. In 
choice, the self throws itself into one desire, and gives that all 
the strength of the self. While desire manifests a possible 
act or state of self, choice affirms that this possibility shall 
be made real, and that other possibilities shall not be realized. 

Character and Retention. — By character is meant the self as 
possessed of definite powers or abilities, and of permanent predisposi- 
t.ons or desires corresponding to these abilities. The make-up 
or character of a man is shown by what he can do, plus what 
he continually tends to do. Character is formed by reten- 
tion. It is the organized residuum or result of all past ac- 
tions. In the beginning there are inherited instincts and im- 
pulses. These are acted upon ; some are encouraged ; the 
end of some is consciously adopted as motive to action. 
Each activity leaves behind an effect which renders it 
easier to act in that way again. The accumulation of such 
effects creates a tendency to act in that way. In the same way 
something is retained from each desire, and this leads desire in 
the same paths in the future. Character is thus organized ten- 
dency and desire. 

Choice and Apperception. — Choice corresponds to appercep- 
tion. Indeed, it is apperception practically directed It is the 
selection and assimilation of some course of action. In know- 
ledge, apperceiving is bringing the mind to bear through its 
organized centres of experience, upon presented sensations. In 
will, it is bringing to bear the organized centres of ability and 
desire upon the presented impulses. The result in both cases 
is that the presentation is connected with the acquired results 
of past experience. Since apperception and retention mutually 
depend upon each other, it follows that the relation of character 
and choice is a reciprocal one. Character is organised de- 
cisions or choices. Choice is the expression of character* 



Forms of Volitional Development. 141 

Choice builds up character and character is manifested in 
choice. Every choice enters into the building up of an organ 
of choice and thus decides future decisions. 

Control. — Finally, we may say that a desire or impulse is con- 
trolled when it is brought into connection with character. Every 
one has certain organized groups or systems of desires and of 
tendencies to action. When an impulse or desire does not 
express itself merely, but expresses a relation to one of these 
groups, it is in so far controlled, and it is controlled in the 
highest degree when it is brought into relation with the totality 
of such groups — with character. A desire may come in con- 
tact only with a superficial and simple group of desires and 
tendencies ; comparatively the conflict is brief, effort slight, and 
the resulting choice unimportant. Another desire may send 
roots into all the groups. Here the conflict is prolonged, for 
each of these groups must be allowed due consideration ; 
effort is severe, for the conflicting claims of these groups must 
be reconciled, and choice is important, influencing the entire 
future of the self, for it affects each of the centres that together 
make the self what it is. But since there is no such thing as 
character in general, since character is only the totality of all the 
groups of fixed tendencies, ideas and desires, it must be remem- 
bered that however unimportant any o?ie choice may be (since 
affecting only one centre), yet it is by the cumulation of such 
single acts that each centre is built up and character formed. 

The Training of Character. — It may be said that 
self-control is obtained by the proper training of desire, and by 
the subordination of impulses to the law of their ends. »But 
after our study of the realization of an end we can add some 
further points. 

1. Selfamtrol is reached through habitual action. — Character 
is built up through successive acts. From each act something 
is "retained," which thus becomes influential in controlling 
future activity. Character is the sum and result of all these 



142 FORMATION OF CHARACTER. 

activities. It is significant that our words " ethical " and 
" moral " both find their origin in words signifying customs 01 
habits. Character, good or bad, is in very considerable degree 
the outcome of acts which in themselves are neither good nor 
bad, but only customary or habitual. A child in his earliest 
years has instincts and tendencies, but no character. Day by 
day, as he is directed in actions which are right, and yet which 
he does not do simply because they are right, he forms the habit 
of right action, he grows in love of such actions as he con- 
stantly finds satisfaction in them, he forms a tendency, which 
is almost instinctive or natural, to repeat them. Then as his 
reason develops and he sees the true nature of such acts, he is 
prepared consciously to choose them because they are right. 
The acts are now right, not only externally, but also internally ; 
that is, they have a right motive and purpose, as well as con- 
form outwardly to the demands of morality. 

2. The formation of habits is largely under the control of 
others : thus self-control is trained through external control. — 
It is in the facts just mentioned that the educator finds at once 
his opportunity and suggestions as to methods. Character is 
largely the result of unconscious habit : and the teacher has it 
in his hands to aid in the formation of habits. While the in- 
fluence of education in training character has often been exag- 
gerated, as when it is supposed that certain systems of education 
will turn out a certain kind of product with the fixity and cer- 
tainty of machinery, the influence is so great that it stands in 
no need of exaggeration. Nature contributes its share, but nur- 
ture has its part also. "The virtues," says Aristotle, "come 
neither by nature nor against nature, but nature gives the 
capacity for acquiring them and training develops it." 

3. Self control is trained by habits of self-reliance. — While the 
young and immature, almost characterless child, is highly sus- 
ceptible to external discipline in forming his habits, it should 
not be forgotten that the sole end of this external control is 



FORMS OF VOLITIONAL DEVELOPMENT. 1 43 

self-control. The habit of decision can be formed only by 
repeated personal decisions. Choice, as we have seen, is 
identification of self with a desire. No one but the self, there- 
fore, can choose. One can do much for another, but he can- 
not choose for him. The teacher may and should supply all 
the possible conditions of right choice ; he must check hasty 
action, he must encourage deliberation, he must suggest all 
reinforcing motives, but the act of choice belongs to the child. 
If, therefore, no opportunity for decision is given, if the edu- 
cator does everything for the child, as soon as this external prop 
is removed the fact that no habit of choice has been formed 
reveals itself in weak and in wrong action. The child of the 
streets has often a better training of will than the favoured 
child of culture, because the former has always to choose for 
himself, while the latter is surrounded with influences that do 
not allow decision. 

4. Self control is trained through recognition of idea of Law 
and strengthening regard for it. — We have already seen that 
impulses work towards an end, and that this end once reached 
becomes the law to which they thereafter subject themselves. 
This gives a multiplicity of laws ; as many laws as there are 
ends. But as the child grows in intelligence he frames the 
ideas of larger and more comprehensive ends, and thus of more 
inclusive laws. Finally he rises to the generalization of law ; 
of law in general, not merely a particular law for each particu- 
lar impulse. There is set up a general permanent standard — 
conformity to law — by which all impulses and desires may be 
measured ; and if the sense of obligation is correspondingly 
developed, it is felt that they must be referred to this law as 
their standard. The conception of such a law gives self-control 
even in new circumstances, for it is felt that there is some law 
to be followed, and there is cultivated the habit of searching 
for this law. The habit of referring desires to law which is 
felt to be obligatory, constitutes conscientiousness. 



144 FORMATION OF CHARACTER. 

5. Self-control is trained through the conception of an ideal of* 
perfect self . — -With the growth of the child in intelligence and in 
conscientiousness, the conception of character is enlarged. It 
includes not only the actual self, the result of past decisions 
and actions, but an ideal self. There is nothing mystical 
about the conception of the ideal self; it simply includes over 
and above actual attainments, the idea of capacities or possi- 
bilities not yet realized. Desires are measured not merely by 
their reference to the actual state of character as the organized 
result of past experiences, but by their reference to the deve- 
lopment of possibilities of character in the future. Desires in 
line with the development of these possibilities, however 
much in contrast with past attainments, are stimulated and 
reinforced, others are arrested. A perfect character means also 
a completed character — a character with all capacities realized. 
When such an ideal is made the end of activity, desires are 
controlled in the highest degree ; they are controlled by relation 
to past attainments and by reference to future possible attain- 
ments. Such self-control is freedom. 

Kinds of Control. — The foregoing considerations may 
be rendered more specific by a brief consideration of the 
various kinds of self-control. These may conveniently, though 
soemwhat arbitrarily, be classified as physical, prudential and 
moral. In the first place a child has to gain control of his body. 
This includes everything by which fhe child is enabled to use 
his body as an instrument in executing any volition, walking, 
articulate speech, writing, etc., etc. Then, a child has to be 
able to control his speech, his actions, and even his thoughts 
and feelings with reference to his own welfare. And finally, he 
must be able to control himself, with regard to what is demanded 
of him by the obligations of morality — first as they are em- 
bodied in the requirements of others, and afterwards as he re- 
cognizes his own obligations to his own and to others' per- 
sonality 



Forms of Volitional development. 145 

I. Physical Control. — This is of importance in the edu- 
cation of will, both for its own sake, and for the discipline of 
volition afforded by it. The necessity of a child's being able to 
control his senses and his muscles is so evident as not to need 
illustration. But it must also be remembered that in learning 
to control them he is exercising all the factors that enter into 
self-control of the highest kind. He is subordinating his im- 
pulses to law ; he is forming and guiding desires ; he is em- 
ploying self-restraint, effort and choice. 

Relation of physical to moral control. — It is thus obvious that 
the training of the impulses of physical activity is a very import- 
ant factor in moral training, aside from all moral uses the train- 
ing is put to. A child cannot learn to write, to sit still when 
necessary, to prepare and recite lessons at certain times (consid- 
ered merely as physical processes) without exercising self-con- 
trol ; and so, in these actions he forms habits of self-control, 
which, when subordinated to right motives, constitute morality. 
There is therefore, a decided moral as well as intellectual side to 
the training of the eye, the ear, the tongue and the hand. " Kin- 
dergarten " and " manual " training are tributary to specifically 
ethical culture. It is said that in a certain reformatory, part of 
the prisoners were subject to definite physical training, gymnas- 
tic exercises, etc., and that they not only gained intellectually 
and in personal appearance, but in general moral character. 
And this is what one might expect. 

Process of physical control. — No new principles are involved 
in physical control. Association and attention acting upon 
the impulses and instincts explain the results. In particular, 
the two functions of analysis and synthesis are employed in 
gaining control of the physical self. In the first place, all im- 
pulses are vague. Aside from one or two primary instincts, 
they are diffused through the entire muscular system. An in- 
fant has very early the impulse to walk, but the impulse instead 

K 



146 FORMATION OF CHARACTER. 

of being distinct and confined to the proper muscles, expends 
itself through all the muscles. So, a child when learning to 
write moves his whole arm, and even his body, face and 
tongue. Learning to perform some physical act consists, 
therefore, in the first place, in the differentiation and localization 
of the impulse. And in the second place, it consists in the 
uniting, the interconnecting of these differentiated impulses. To 
walk is to combine and co-ordinate a series or succession of 
distinct muscular impulses. In articulate speech, a series of 
motor impulses of vocal organs, tongue, lips, etc., must be con- 
nected, and then this series must be properly associated with a 
series of auditory sensations, and this with a series of ideas. That 
is, in order to speak, the child must control his vocal organs ; to 
control them he must have as a standard the images of the 
sounds which he is to make ; and if these sounds are to mean 
anything, they must be connected with ideas. Similar complex 
combinations are involved in writing, playing musical instru- 
ments, reading aloud, etc. 

Results Of Control. — 1. The idea of what can be done 
becomes more extended and more defitiite. — Not only is the act 
more definite, but the idea is more definite, for, as we have 
previously noticed, it is only when an end has been reached 
that we know what the end is. A baby has no definite idea 
either of what a word sounds like or how to speak it, until he 
has succeeded in pronouncing it. And the idea becomes more 
extensive just in proportion as the act combines more impulses. 
An infant lives in the present because his actions do not ex- 
tend their significance beyond the present. Compare with an 
infant a youth who is learning a trade. Here all actions have 
a unity in their reference to the end aimed at, and the youth's 
ideas gain a similar unity and comprehensiveness. His con- 
sciousness takes in a wide future range. 

2. Abilities and tendencies are created. — We come again upon 
the fact of retention. Movements become organized into the 



FORMS OF VOLITIONAL DEVELOPMENT. 1 47 

structure of the body, and through the effect that each act pro- 
duces, the act is easier in the future ; since easier, it tends to 
be repeated in preference to acts requiring more energy ; being 
repeated, habit is formed. Isolated acts have become power 
to act. That which has been acquired by hard labor becomes 
spontaneous function, becomes play. These abilities become 
tendencies; that is, the person follows or acts according to 
them unconsciously or automatically, and unless he exercises 
effort, he falls into these habits so easily that they seem to 
to control him. He apparently becomes the creature of what 
he has created. 

3. The amount of stimulus and effort required is lessened. — 
This follows from the two principles already stated. When, in 
writing, the impulse is diffused through the entire body, it is 
clear that the most of it is wasted. When it is confined to the 
fingers, there is less draft upon the energies required. In an 
infant, the original stimulus to activity is an excitement of the 
whole organism. There are chance and random movements, 
but actions directed to an end occur only when the whole 
organism is stirred by a demand for food. Then strong 
affections of a single sense — as a bright light, or a loud 
sound, rouse activity; then a perception of moderate force suffices 
the sight of a play-thing induces activity ; the sound of a word, 
is stimulus to repeat the sound. Then a suggestion or in- 
junction from another suffices; the child does what he is 
told to do. Then, at last, an idea originating in his own con- 
sciousness is sufficient stimulus to action. Thus there are 
gradations between affection of the whole physical organism 
at one extreme, and the mere idea at the other. And, of 
course, as habits are built up, the amount of necessary effort is 
lessened until, as just mentioned, it may require effort not to 
act rather than to act. 

II. Prudential Control. — As soon as physical control is 
made a means to something beyond itself, the stage of pruden- 



14$ formation of character. 

tial control is reached. When a child speaks, not for the sake 
of learning to speak, but for the sake of some end beyond, the 
control is not only physical but prudential. It thus begins at 
a very early period in life. Prudential action involves all 
action for the sake of any end felt to be satisfactory, excepting a 
moral end. 

Results of Prudential Control.— We have already 
studied desire, deliberation, choice, and the intellectual pro- 
cesses which enter into control. There is nothing new in- 
volved in prudential control, excepting the kind of end for the 
sake of which the control occurs — some recognized satisfaction. 
Accordingly we turn at once to the results of prudential control 
in the formation and development of character. 

1. Action is more deliberate. — Since the action aims at some 
recognized satisfaction, it is necessary to weigh and compare 
means and ends. The child cannot follow his impulses im- 
mediately, but must reflect upon them to see which will 
reach the most useful end, and what steps he must take to 
reach the end he decides upon. In this way character becomes 
thoughtful ox reflective. 

2. Action takes in more remote and more comprehensive ends. — 
The satisfaction may be one which cannot be reached in a day 
or even in a year. If such a remote satisfaction is desired, it is 
evident that all acts between the time of choice and the realiza- 
tion of the end, must be controlled with reference to the one 
end. For example, consider a person studying a profession 
or learning a trade. The end may become very inclusive it may 
be health, or wealth, or political honor, or success as a teacher 
or author. Such ends are exceedingly complex, involving an 
indefinite number of minor acts of restraint, effort and choice. 
Thus character gains unity and continuity. 

3. Action is more determined and persevering. — While only a 
resolute or determined person is likely to be persevering, the 



FORMS OF VOLITIONAL DEVELOPMENT. 1 49 

terms are not synonymous. Resolution or determination has 
reference to the choice of ends. A determined 01 lirm person 
is one who chooses definitely and fixedly ; he knows what he 
wants and is not to be induced to change his purpose. Having 
settled upon his end, he is now persevering in attempting to 
reach it. Persevering thus relates to use of means, as resolute 
does to choice of end. A persevering person is one not turned 
aside from an end because it is not immediately reached, be- 
cause obstacles present themselves, because other agreeable 
ends suggest themselves. Resolution and perseverance give char- 
acter permanent stability. 

4. Action becomes more intense or energetic. — As prudential 
control is obtained, action becomes forceful, manifesting in- 
creased power. This does not mean excitement. It is not mea- 
sured by the amount of effort apparent. A person who appears 
very intense is often, like a puffing engine, not doing much. 
Physical energy is defined as power to do work, and so voli- 
tional energy or intensity, is measured by its i - esult, by its 
capacity for doing, not by apparent activity. A teacher 
should avoid the idea that there is any value in mere ac- 
tivity, in going through a set of motions or performances ; 
the value is in what the activity accomplishes. Energy 
renders character effective. If we sum up what has been 
said, it follows that a thoroughly controlled will involves de- 
liberation before choosing, certainty and singleness in making 
the choice, tenacity in clinging to the choice once made, and 
energy using all appropriate means for realising it. 

III. Moral Control.— 

There are no new processes involved in moral control It 
differs from physical and prudential control only in the end to 
which the volitional processes are subject. It aims at con- 
trolling the impulses and the desires by the law of good char- 
acter, and not by the law of physical action or of personal 
welfare. 



150 FORMATION OF CHARACTER. 

Relation to physical and prudential control. — It is of great im- 
portance to the teacher to realize that moral control consid- 
ered simply upon the side of volitional factors that enter into 
it, namely, desire, effort, choice, etc., is the same as physical 
and prudential control, and that only the end or motive dif- 
fers. This fact gives two principles for the teacher's guidance. 

1. Every act of will, whether directly moral or not, may be 
rendered tributary to formation of Moral Character. — It was 
shown, when speaking of the intellectual faculties, that their 
training is largely indirect ; that memory, for example, is trained 
in training perception ; that thinking is trained by right per- 
ception and memory. The same law of indirect culture holds in 
moral training ; and it is fortunate for both teacher and pupil 
that such is the case. Every act of attention on the part of the 
pupil, every concentration in study that excludes distracting 
stimuli, every physical restraint, as sitting quietly when neces- 
sary; every form of physical control, as guiding the pen in 
writing ; every subordination of present pleasure to future satis- 
faction, requires the same activity of will that moral conduct 
requires, and results in a training of character through the forma- 
tion of habits. If the teacher's methods and his own purpose 
are not mechanical but moral, if an ethical spirit animates him, 
this ethical spirit will lay hold of all the details of school work, 
and make them subservient to the development of character 
in the pupil. 

2. These processes, not directly moral in themselves, when 
subordinated to right motives, become moral. — In other words, in 
order to develop morality, the teacher does not have to resort to 
some new processes, to some kind of activity and training dis- 
tinct from all employed before, but has to awaken love of what is 
right and to stimulate the pupil to make this love the motive of 
his actions. Moral action, in a word, does not regard a distinct 
kind of action, but a distinct kind of motive. The teacher who 



MORAL CONTROL. 151 

is making use of all possible methods to give the pupil proper 
control of his physical and of his mental activities, and who, 
at the same time, by example, by sympathy, by correction, by 
awakening admiration of good characters and good acts, and, if 
necessary, by direct precept, is inspiring in the pupil love of 
the right, is doing all that can be done to build up moral 
character. 

Relation of motive to moral action. — A few examples will 
make clear the relations of motive to moral action. Both lying 
and truth-telling, considered as external acts, and considered 
internally with reference to psychological \ rocesses entering into 
them, are the same. They differ in the kind of motive which 
inspires each. The act of a surgeon in performing an operation 
that leads to the death of a patient, and the act of a murderer 
are, as acts, alike. The difference, again is in the motive that 
led to each act ; the reason for which it was performed. It is 
then not the outcome, the result of an act that makes it moral, 
but the motive, the reason in which it originates. 

Motive and Responsibility. — This is the reason why persons 
hold themselves, and are held by others, responsible or account- 
able for moral action, and not for prudential action. The re- 
sult is often, perhaps generally, beyond one's control ; the motive 
never. For example, a man wishes to become rich. His 
attaining wealth, while partly depending upon his own industry, 
foresight, etc., yet depends also upon forces of nature and so- 
ciety which he cannot govern. These forces may defeat his 
best plans, and thus, considered from the standpoint of result, 
his act is a failure. Yet he does not blame himself for the 
failure, so far as it depends solely upon outside agencies. But 
when one is untruthful, one recognizes that the failure lies not 
with outside forces, but in himself. His choice or motive was 
wrong, and for this choice, as his own act, he holds himself 
responsible 



152 FORMS OF VOLITIONAL DEVELOPMENT. 

Motive and Character. — It is also evident that moral action 
forms character in a sense in which other action does not. In 
prudential and physical control, only the processes, not the re- 
sult, make character. In moral character the result makes or is 
character. One touches what a man has ; the other what he is. 
A man's wealth, health, knowledge, social standing deeply in- 
fluence his being yet they do not make it. But a man's will is 
himself, not something which he has. When, therefore, a man 
chooses to be good, not merely wishes in a vague way that he 
were or might mysteriously become good, he is in so far good. 
The choice, the selection of the motive makes him what he is. 
The set or bent of a man's will constitutes his character, and 
this set or bent is constituted by the ruling motives of his life. 

Character and theSense of Obligation. — We have seen before 
that the relation of character and choice is reciprocal. This 
holds in moral action. A constant choice of the right 
makes, is, upright character ; and this, in turn leads to a 
strengthening of the sense of obligation, increasing the power 
of right motives to control choice. We cannot overestimate 
the evil of evil choice in leading to evil results ; but more dis- 
heartening yet is the fact that wrong choice and action weaken 
the sense of obligation, and thus lessen the force of good mo- 
tives. Almost the worst thing that can be said of a pupil is, not 
that he does this or that bad thing, but that he seems to have 
no idea of obligation — of duty. The well-spring of moral 
action is dried-up, and good deeds come, if they come at all, 
only by impulse or by accident. 

The Growth of Idea of Obligation. — To a child the sense 
of obligation can come only in connection with particu- 
lar acts. This or that deed is right or wrong. And it comes at 
first negatively rather than positively. That is, it comes through 
restraint ; the child is forbidden to do this or that thing. The 
impulse is met by a restraining power, and in the conflict of 
natural impulse to do with the injunction to forbear doing, the. 



MORAL CONTROL. 153 

child gets his first moral experiences. Then come positive in- 
junctions to do certain things which his impulses, if left to them- 
selves, would not do. Gradually the experience is generalized. 
There comes the idea of law, of something always obligatory 
standing over against impulse to control it both by arresting 
and by guiding it. 

The Performance of Duties — While a large share of the moral 
education of a child consists in developing his sense of obligation, 
it is, of course, also important that he be trained to act upon re- 
cognized obligation. In general a child who really feels obligation 
is impelled to act accordingly ; the obligation becomes a concrete 
motive or moving power. But there are other forces which act 
along with the force of obligation, and which re-act upon it to 
strengthen it. There is, first, the force of habit, as already 
mentioned. A righc action often done tends to be repeated, 
independent of its Tightness. Secondly, there are certain lower 
impulses and motives which may be called in by the educator; 
the desire for reward, to escape punishment, for future gratifi- 
cation, for the approval of others, etc., while not moral motives, 
may be judiciously employed by the teacher as forces co-oper- 
ating in right doing. A manipulation of non-moral motives 
leading to moral acts constitutes, especially with younger 
children, a large part of the work of the educator. 

And, thirdly, there are motives which, if not originally mora^ 
become such with a very slight development. These are es- 
pecially pity, sympathy and love. Such feelings tend to iden- 
tify the child with those about him — first in the family, then in 
the school, then in the wider relations of society. This 
identification makes real the claims that others have upon him; 
these claims, the rights of others, are not mere abstract obliga- 
tions, but are his own interests. He is interested in them as 
he is in his own wants and desires. This identification also 
extends the range of obligations that the child recognizes ; what- 
ever obligations the one whom he loves and admires recog- 



154 FORMS OF VOLITIONAL DEVELOPMENT. 

nizes, he also feels that he ought to recognize. And finally 
such an identification weakens the motive that tends most 
strongly to wrong conduct, selfishness, namely. It takes the 
child beyond his own personal gratification and widens his 
being, his character. Only that can satisfy him which satisfies 
others. This feeling, if properly trained, must finally cause 
the person to recognize, practically if not theoretically, his 
identity of interests and purpose with those of all other per- 
sons, and must change the bare feeling* of obligation into a 
powerful social motive. 

Results of Moral Control. — i. Generic or Immanent 
Choice. — This term implies two things; first, that the result of 
forming a moral habit, or mode of moral control, forms a 
general motive in that direction. It creates a state of choice. 
A child who has the organized habit of truth telling does not 
have to exercise specific choice in each case; but has a general 
governing intention or purpose which controls all cases. It im- 
plies, secondly, that this general decision continues in action 
even when there is no immediate cause for action. A temperate 
man's temperance does not cease to exist when he is not satis- 
fying some appetite. The choice is immanent in him ; that is, 
it remains permanently to direct the course of his actions. 

2. Automatic and Intuitive Decision. — A person who has fixed 
habits of action does not have to hesitate a long time before 
acting. An immature character may have a long struggle before 
choosing, but a thoroughly good or a thoroughly bad character 
has no such struggle ; such a person chooses automatically. 
Fixity of character shows itself also in intuitive recognition 
of what is right and wrong. An immature character has often 
to reflect long in order to decide what is good or bad, but a 
formed character makes its decision at once. 

3, Regulation of Desires. — The formation of desires is, if we 
omit moral considerations, as natural as the origin of impulses ; 
the desires are the direct result of the psychical constitution. 



MIND AND BODY. 155 

But when moral motives are recognized, it is seen that obli- 
gation extends to the desires. Desires, as well as acts, may be 
wrong, and need checking. A settled character decides what 
desires can be entertained as well as what acts shall be per- 
formed. Character thus finally decides the emotional bent of 
the person. 

4. Effective Execution. — Character forms a reservoir of power 
back of the choice. An immature character may desire to do 
a certain act, may choose it, and yet be overcome by opposing 
temptations. There is not enough force back of the choice to 
guarantee its realization. But character is a multiplied volition 
which guarantees the execution of the chosen end. A person 
with fixed character, moreover, takes pleasure in certain desires 
and acts, and this pleasure, the abiding interest which he has, 
leads him to act. 



CHAPTER VII. 

MIND AND BODY. 



The mind must be developed as completely as possible. The 
mind must also be able to use its developed powers in an effec- 
tive way, so as to accomplish as much as possible with them. 
To reach these two ends, the body must be healthy and must be 
well-trained. The teacher should, therefore, know something 
of the mutual relations of mind and body that he may fully 
realize the importance of the corpus sanum for the mens sana, 
and that he may be able to infer something as to methods to be 
employed in bringing about the ideal relation between them. 

Importance of Body for Soul. — The soul of a human 
being is not pure spirit, but embodied mind. This one fact 
makes it necessary that in his methods the educator should 
always have reference to physical and physiological conditions. 



156 MIND AND BODY. 

It is through the body that the soul is connected with nature ; 
with those vast and also minute forces which make up 
this whole universe. And the body connects the soul with 
material universe in two ways : on the one hand, it makes 
the soul a recipient of the influences coming from it ; on the 
other hand, it makes the soul an a°ent, a power capable of 
affecting or influencing nature. All that comes to the soul 
from without, comes through the body ; all that the soul can 
give to the world without, it gives through the body. 

Relation of Sense- Organs, Muscular System aud Brain, to the 
Soul. — In more detail, all sensations come through the sense- 
organs ; all activity of will is manifested through the muscular- 
system ; all processes of apperception, and retention, of memory 
and thinking are accompanied by activities in the brain and 
nervous system. The body is, therefore, not only an instrument 
of mind, but its processes enter, as an integral factor, into 
mental processes and results. If a sense-organ is defective or is 
diseased, the corresponding sensation is absent or abnormal ; 
if entirely wanting, one department of knowledge is evidently cut 
off ; if it is distorted, resulting knowledge is abnormal. Indeed, 
the distortion of the sensation often leads to a distortion of the 
mental process that interprets it. A person with abnormal 
auditory sensations often comes to interpret them as voices of 
demons, or as the voice of one commanding him to do some 
deed. This hallucination, in turn, becomes an " apperceiving 
organ," that is, other perceptions and ideas are assimilated to 
it ; it becomes a centre about which many ideas gather and are 
correspondingly distorted. On the other hand, if the sense- 
organ is well controlled, considered simply as a physical instru- 
ment, perception becomes definite and accurate, and this tends, 
at least, to produce correct and clear habits of thinking. 

The same may be said of the relation of the muscular system 
to the will. The muscular system is not only a necessary means 
of carrying out the decisions of the soul, but its culture or non- 



MIND AND BODY. 157 

culture is directly reflected in the development of the will. Un- 
steady, vacillating, or irritable physical habits, are apt to mean 
similar habits of attention and choice. The dependence of soul 
is not confined, of course, to its relations to the sense-organs 
and muscular system ; the eye, the hand, are parts of the body, 
consequently their condition depends upon the state of the and 
entire organism. The circulation of the blood and nutrition of 
the body will reflect themselves in sense-organ, in muscle, and 
in the stale of the brain. Hence, the culture of the whole 
body is as necessary as that of any special organ. The health of 
the body as a whole seems to be intimately connected with the 
emotional condition. The organic or common sensations com- 
ing from every part of the body, form, it is probable, the 
underlying emotional back-ground or disposition, and every 
disturbance of the health of the organism is reflected in a 
disturbance of the emotional attitude. Fresh air, exercise, 
repose are, through their relation to the emotions, as much 
demands of moral hygiene as of physical. 

Mind and Brain. — Less is known, of course, of the direct 
relations of mind and brain than of the direct relations of mind 
and sense-organs, and muscular system. But there is good reason 
to believe that every psychical process is accompanied with 
change in the brain-centres, and leaves behind it an alteration 
of their condition. Lesions of the brain are accompanied 
with greater or less loss of mental function, and insanity is 
always found to be accompanied with some cerebral change. 
The character of the blood that goes to the brain, the nutrition 
of the body and of the nerve-centres, manifest themselves 
in the mental states. Mental over-work, lack of change, or 
excessive stimulation, are as disastrous as their analogous phy- 
sical disturbances. On the other hand, statistics show that 
well-balanctd and thorough mental activity is conducive to 
good health and long life, through the correct habit that it 
indaces in "iie physical organism. 



158 MIND AND BODY. 

Structure of Nervous System in Man. — The details of this 
belong rather to anatomy and physiology, but it may be well 
to recall some leading facts. There are two kinds of nerve- 
tissue, the cellular, which is generally gathered into ganglionic 
masses or nerve-centres, and the fibrous aggregated into 
bundles, known as the nerves. In man these are arranged 
so as to form the cerebro-spinal system, including the 
brain, the spinal cord and the nerves going from the brain and 
the spinal-cord to the various organs of the body. These 
nerves are generally classified as motor or sensory. The motor 
are efferent, that is, they carry impulses from the central organs 
to the muscles and thus induce movement ; the sensory are 
afferent, that is, they conduct stimuli from the sense-organs to 
the brain-centres and thus occasion sensation. For example, 
light is reflected upon the retina of the eye ; the resulting 
stimulus is transmitted by the optic nerve to the brain ; ner- 
vous changes take place there corresponding to the assimila- 
tion of the sensation, to its association with other sensations, and 
thus result in the formation of a percept, say the recognition of 
an orange; other cerebral changes occur corresponding to a deter- 
mination to get the orange ; an impulse goes out along a motor 
nerve, the muscles of the hand are stimulated, and the orange 
is grasped. The cerebral changes corresponding to the higher 
psychical processes are generally thought to occur in the cortex 
of the brain, a comparatively thin rind of ganglionic matter 
surrounding the fibrous mass of the hemispheres of the brain. 

Elementa-ry Properties of Nerve Structures. — 

Every nerve structure is irritable or excitable ; that is, capable 
of receiving stimuli and of responding to them by the exercise 
of energy. Every portion of the nerve tissue is also capable 
of conducting these stimuli, or is capable of transmitting its 
own excitation to some other point. The fibres are much 
better conductors than the ganglia or nerve centres, and hence 
are sometimes, but incorrectly, treated as the sole conductors. 



MIND AND BODY. 159 

Nerve tissue also has the power of summation, that is, it is 
capable of transforming, or summing-up, a number of separate, 
minute shocks into one continuous and more prolonged stimu- 
lus. It also has the powers of inhibition, and of plasticity. By 
inhibition is meant that the nervous system is capable of arrest- 
ing or controlling stimuli. If a neural organ had only the 
property of excitability, it would use up all its energy in 
responding to every stimulus that affected it, but being capable 
of checking the amount of energy expended in answer to a 
stimulus, it is able to keep a reserve force constantly on hand. 
Indeed, it is probably this reserve force that acts in opposition 
to the stimulus affecting it, and by antagonizing it, arrests the 
outflow of energy. 

By plasticity is meant that the nerve tissues are altered in 
structure by every process that they undergo. A nerve organ 
mat has responded to a stimulus is not the same that it was 
before. This property of plasticity is also termed facilitation. 
A neural structure that has acted in one way once, acts that 
way more easily in future ; indeed, it tends to act that way in 
future. This property is also termed accommodation. This 
term expresses the fact that a nerve structure that has received 
similar stimuli, or undergone similar processes a number of 
times, becomes specially accommodated or adjusted to that kind 
of stimulus or process. It is evident that plasticity and inhib- 
ition are closely connected. The more a nerve structure tends 
to act in one way, the greater resistance it will offer to all 
stimuli exciting to a different course of action. 

Psychological Equivalents. — It is evident that sensation, 
interest, and impulse, answer in some way to the property 
of excitability. They all stir the soul to action, either 
intellectual or volitional, or both. And as the physiological 
stimulus is controlled and guided by the inhibition exercised by 
the central organs, so the psychological excitations are brought 
under the control of the less superficial " apperceptive organs." 



160 Mind and bodV. 

That is to say, upon both the physiological and the psycholo- 
gical sides, we have, on one hand, stimulus to activity, and, on 
the other, organized capacities or tendencies (" faculties ") that 
respond to the stimulus, and that, by the manner of their re- 
sponse, control it. And it is only as the stimulus, whether 
physiological or psychological, is inhibited or regulated, that 
it becomes effective or of any value. The sensation is con- 
trolled by the intellectual capacities that connect and interpret 
it ; the impulse is controlled by the habits of desire and choice 
with which it is brought into relation. 

Excitation and Inhibition. — A right balance of the 
two sides of excitation and inhibition is necessary for proper 
physical or psychical activity. Without excitation there is 
dullness, inertia, laziness, lack of incentive ; without inhib- 
ition, there is instability, excessive irritability and vacillation. 
There is no self-control, physical or mental. Every stimulus 
excites activity to a high degree, and thus exhausts power, 
nervous and psychical. It is a noteworthy fact that a fatigued 
nerve is relatively more excitable than a fresh one. So fatigue 
generally shows itself psychically by inability to control attention, 
and often by irritation of temper. The reserve force of the 
brain centres is exhausted, and the stimuli are comparatively 
stronger. Hence the evil effects, mentally and physical, of over 
work and over pressure in school. Some psychologists think the 
different temperaments are due to the mutual relations of the 
stimulating and the inhibiting power. The psychological equi- 
valent of plasticity is, of course, habit and retention. There is 
a change in the structure and function of the nerves, and espe- 
cially of the nerve centres, at the basis of the change that the 
mind undergoes. And retention, in building up habit and char- 
acter, builds up future self-control, just as plasticity and inhi- 
bition are connected. 

Localization of Function. — One of the most important topics 
in physiological psychology, as well as one of the most import- 



MIND AND BODY. ID! 

ant pedagogically, is that of localization of function. To what 
extent do definite portions of the brain correspond to definite 
mental functions and capacities ? The details of this question 
are much disputed, but there seems to be growing agreement 
of opinion upon the following points : 

i. There is original indifference of function. That is, prior 
to experience, either of the individual or of the species, there 
is no localization. Every part of the nervous structure is 
equally prepared to exeicise every function. 

2. As the result of use certain functions become more or less 
confined to certain portions of the brain. This would be a ne- 
cessary result of the properties of plasticity and accommodation. 
Use depends not so much on the structure of a part as upon 
its motor, sensory and cerebral connections. 

3. The more mechanical the function, the more reaii'y (and 
hence perfectly) it is localized. Thus the processes ordinarily 
called purely mechanical, like breathing, circulation, etc., have 
definite local centres. The spinal-cord and the lower parts of 
the brain, aside from their conducting functions, seem to be 
groups of centres for regulating mechanical functions. Walking 
and other physical habits seem to have definite centres. Ar- 
ticulate speech almost always has its nerve-basis in the third 
frontal convolution of the left hemisphere. 

4. Mental capacities, whether intellectual or volitional, have 
ill-defined and changeable centres. That is to say, the capacities 
of assimilating and of recognizing various kinds of sense-impres- 
sions, and of co-ordinating and controlling various kinds of 
motor impulses, have centres in the brain. The centres have 
no definite outline, however, and probably overlap one another. 
By calling them changeable we mean that if a centre in one 
hemisphere is destroyed, the function may, through use, be as- 
sumed by a corresponding centre in the other hemisphere. If 
this is also destroyed, it is probable that other parts of the brain, 
having proper nerve connections, may be substituted. 



1 62 MIND AND BODY. 

5. Memory, thinking, choice, etc., have no definite local- 
ization. There is no general power of memory, but only 
retention and recognition of various original experiences. 
Each idea has its own memory, as it were. Hence the 
centre of memory is supposed to be the same as that of the 
original idea. In other words, the same parts of the brain are 
active in remembering that were active in the original percep- 
tion. The agreement of this physiological fact with the pre- 
cept laid down for training memory will be noticed. Thinking 
is relating various memories, images and ideas. It cannot have 
any one centre, therefore, but all parts of the brain involved in 
the original perceptions and in the images, must be active in 
thinking. Physiologically as well as psychologically there is no 
abstract or formal faculty of memory or of thought, apart from 
what is remembered, what is thought about. 

6. Ideas are not localized. Some have written as if each 
idea had a separate cell in the brain, and were then connected 
with other cells, by fibres corresponding to the association of 
ideas. This cannot be true, however, for an idea is the result 
of associations and relations. It is not an entity in itself, but 
is a complex result of many factors and processes. The idea 
of a ' dog/ for example, involves elements coming from all the 
senses ; involves motor elements used in speaking or writing the 
word dog; involves, in an educated person, words corresponding 
to the same idea in several languages ; and involves all the 
manifold knowledge a person has about the habits, varieties, 
etc., of dogs. Almost every kind of idea may be thus involved 
in an idea, apparently as simple as that of dog. All portions 
of the brain corresponding to these elements must, therefore, be 
active when we have the idea. 

Educational Principles. — Aside from being convinced 
of the necessity of thorough culture and care of the body the 
teacher may, by the foregoing brief summary, be confirmed in 
certain educational principles already laid down. First, he may 



SUMMARY OF PRINCIPLES. 1 63 

see that the idea of organization of faculty, through retention of 
the result of every experience, which has been so much empha- 
sized, has a physical basis and efficiency. Secondly, he may 
see that it is a physiological impossibility that there should be 
specific direct training of any one faculty. The faculty can be 
trained only through the material assimilated, and the assimi- 
lation of' the material requires the activity of the fundamental 
mental processes and functions. Educate association and at- 
tention, educate analysis and synthesis, and to a large degree 
memory, thinking, etc., will take care of themselves. Thirdly, 
as no cell or fibre has originally any particular function in itself, 
but acquires functions only through its connections, so, 
mentally, relations established by association and by attention 
are more important than the isolated sensation itself. 



CHAPTER VIII. 

SUMMARY OF PRINCIPLES. 



We shall now go over the psychological discussion, select the principles 
of most importance for the teacher, and rearrange them under appropriate 
heads, that we may, as far as possible, derive general maxims for the guid- 
ance of the teacher. After having done this we shall be in a position to 
criticise some of the current maxims, recognizing both their value and their 
limitations. The educational principles to be gathered from our present 
knowledge of psychology may be classified as follows : 

I. Bases upon which instruction should rest. 

II. Ends at which instruction should aim. 

III. Methods which instruction should follow. 

I. Bases of Instruction. 

1. Always base instruction upon some activity oj the pupil. 



164 SUMMARY OP PRINCIPLES. 

This is a principle which holds good from the beginning ; from the pri- 
mary stage to the final, or university stage. Education is the development 
of the psychical activities, and must, therefore, begin with some spontaneous 
manifestation of the activity to be educated. This activity may appear 
in the form of an impulse, an interest, a habit, an exercise of effort, an as- 
sociating or relating activity, according to the degree of development, — but 
personal or self-activity there must be., 

2. Always base instruction upon some interest of the pupil. 
This principle, again is co-extensive with the whole range of education. 
The interest may belong to the activity put forth, to the object upon which 
the activity is exercised, to some remoter end, which it is hoped the activity 
will reach ; it may not have originally belonged to the activity or to its 
object, but may have been transferred to it from something else interesting, 
or it may be induced by appealing to social motives (sympathy, love), or to 
rational motives (desire of knowledge, of progress, etc.) — but personal inier. 
est there, must be. 



3. Always base iiistructioji-itpon. some idea already existing in 
the pupil's mind. 

In the current phrase, knowledge must proceed from the " known to the 
unknown." A fact or action absolutely new and unlike anything in the 
pupil's mind, cannot by any possibility be lodged in that mind. It can 
gain entrance only by being taken hold of by some idea already there. In- 
struction consists in supplying nutriment to some idea already in the mind 
so as to make it grow into a larger and more accurate idea, rather than in 
forcing or pouring something into the mind from without. There are two 
principles which we have repeatedly had occasion to notice which streng- 
then that just laid down : one is that we always learn with what we have 
already learned ; the other is that an idea (however vague) of what is to be 
done must precede any doing. 

II. Ends of Instruction. 

1. Aim at making instruction significant. This includes : first, 
make each subject, as a whole significant, and second, ??iake every 
statement within the subject significant. 

(i) There is no evil in education greater than teaching subjects so that their 
actual bearing is lost sight of : teaching them as if they were mere studies 
instead of real bodies of fact. The divorcing of knowledge obtained by study 
in school from that obtained spontaneously out of school, is one of the 
things the teacher must be most constantly on his guard against. Children 



SUMMARY OF PRINCIPLES. 1 65 

may study geography and not find out that they are simply extending and 
classifying the knowledge about the world that they have been getting ever 
since they were born ; they may study history without realizing that they 
are but enlarging their knowledge of real men and real deeds ; they may 
study grammar without finding out that they are simply defining and ana- 
lyzing what they have always had some practical knowledge of. All is 
remote, arbitrary and consequently meaningless and burdensome'. None 
of the educational reforms of the last generation has been more important 
than that in primary methods which has connected studies with ordinary 
ways of gaining knowledge and with ordinary kinds of knowledge. 

(ii) Every new statement of fact or law must be explained, illustrated 
and acted upon, so as to gain significance. It must be translated into old 
perceptions, and must be transformed into personal actions in order that its 
meaning may be fully apprehended. 

2. Aim at making instruction definite. 

Every lesson should have a point, and every question upon that lesson 
should have a point, precise, salient, unambiguous. Irrelevant matter 
should be excluded : the teacher must avoid the introduction of confusing 
examples or analogies. Objects presented must plainly illustrate just the 
point desired ; if they do not in themselves, attention must be fixed upon 
the relevant points of the object. A great deal of scientific experiment and 
illustration by the teacher is practically wasted because the pupil observes 
only the sensational result, or because the experiment illustrates so many 
points beside the one in hand. Again, every expression, every form 0/ Ian-' 
gtiage used by the pupil must be definite so far as the extent of knowledge 
and the idiosyncracies of the pupil permit. Finally the teacher should 
remember that knowledge is naturally anything but definite. Vague and 
cloudy ideas come first, and they will in many minds remain vague to the 
end unless the teacher is constantly alive to the necessity of arousing mental 
activities to work upon them. 

3. Aim at making instruction practical. 

Instruction is practical when, as has been explained, ideas lead to action 
and action is based upon ideas. In the period when everything that a child 
learns counts, and when he is learning more rapidly than at any other time 
in his life, namely his first five years, there is no divorce of knowing from 
doing. Every idea the child gets is acted upon, and every idea is got 
through action. We shall have an ideal, method of education when this 
same connection between knowledge and action, (though the activities need 



1 66 SUMMARY OF PRINCIPLES. 

not be physical) is continued through all school years, and is joined to a 

regular system of means and ends for securing it. 

(i) Instruction is practical when it leads to the formation of 
right habits. 

Instruction given simply for the sake of conveying information cannot be 
practical. The information must be given for the sake of the habits formed, 
the discipline of intelligence, emotion and will produced. A right under- 
standing of this principle shows what is the true function of drill in educa 
tion. There must be drill, there must be a mechanical side to education, 
but it is all important that the mechanical be confined to its proper place 
— the training of habits, the organizing of capacities. Drill, for its own 
sake, apart from its influence in building up right habits is the most power- 
ful of the forces at work in severing school work from the real world, and 
in making it artificial and unreal. Imagine a child out of school drilled 
and redrilled upon some facts he has gathered in conversation or in reading, 
as he too often is upon facts learned in school ; drilled as if the sole value 
of the facts consisted in the extent to which they lent themselves to pur- 
poses of drill : would not the result be that these facts would become unreal 
and distasteful ; that interest would die out ; that the sense of proportion, 
of the difference between the important and the unimportant, would be de- 
stroyed, and that, by dwelling on what is familiar to the degree of tedious- 
ness, habits of mind-wandering would be formed ? But when drill is used 
simply as means and as means to forming right habits in the subject studied, 
whatever it be, these evil results are avoided, and the proper union of 
knowing and doing is systematically secured. 

(ii) Instruction is practical when it leads to the organization of 
new faculties a?id powers. 

T*he subject of retention has been so often alluded to that there is no need 
of dwelling upon this principle here. It is evident that if instruction is 
carried on with a view to the effect which ideas apprehended have upon the 
mind, it will lead to the production of new capacities and powers ; that, in- 
stead of an accumulation of isolated and dead facts in the mind, there will 
be an assimilation and digestion of them, by which they will be worked 
over into centres of new activity and apprehension. 

(Hi) Instruction is practical when it develops the fundamental 
psychical powers, Association and Attention, Apperception ore 1 
Retention. 



SUMMARY OF PRINCIPLES. 1 67 

It is not upon the specific knowledge acquired, nor upon the 
specific habits formed, nor yet upon the specific powers gained, 
that the pupil will have most to rely after he leaves school, 
and upon which his success in life will most depend. It is the 
cultivation of the mind in its fundamental capacities, its powers 
of forming proper connections, of apprehending readily and 
accurately, of retaining firmly and for long periods, of concen- 
trating and directing attention, that decides whether or not the 
person is educated for life. 

Fortunately the four ends mentioned are all met by the same methods. 
The best methods of acquiring knowledge in the subject of arithmetic are 
also the surest to develop right habits of dealing with arithmetical relations, 
and the most effective in organizing mental faculties. And the methods 
that form right habits and organize new powers are also the methods which 
are surest to discipline, cultivate and develop the fundamental powers of 
mind, and to give association and attention ability to deal with whatever 
questions present themselves. 

III. Methods of Instruction. 

1. Teach one thing at a time. 

This does not mean simply that geography is to be taught at one time, 
history at another, and so on. It means that every subject is to be so pre- 
sented that the mind's activities may be directed, all its energies concen- 
trated, upon one point at a time. Operations that, to an adult, have 
become so habitual that their various factors are consolidated into one 
simple process are, to a beginner, highly complex, and it is necessary for 
the teacher to select these various factors, present them in logical order, 
and drill the pupils upon each one of them separacely. When the question 
is as to the special methods to be adopted in teaching some subject, as read- 
ing, arithmetic, etc., the first step is to discover what mental operations the 
mind must go through in grasping that subject ; the next step is to arrange 
ways by which the child's attention may be confined successively to each 
one of these constituent operations, beginning, of course, with the simplest. 

Example. — Reading aloud is to an educated adult a comparatively simple 
matter. The wrong methods, once in use, went upon the principle that it 
was a correspondingly simple matter to a child, and, therefore, endeavoured 
to make the child's mind work in three or four directions at once. The 



1 68 SUMMARY OF PRINCIPLES. 

result, naturally, was that some of the aspects of reading were slighted, and 
that none of the processes involved in reading was efficiently and economi- 
cally performed. For, consider how complex the operation really is. 
First, aitention must be paid to the visual sensations in order to recognize 
the written word ; then there must be the mental operation of combining 
the letters and words ; then of paying attention to the ideas symbolized by 
the words ; then, in order to pronounce the words with expression, atten- 
tion must be paid to the auditory sensations represented by the words ; then 
to their association with the motor impulses required to make the sounds ; 
and then to the proper inflection, pitch, emphasis, etc., that will give the 
full meaning of what is written. The analysis could be carried farther, but 
here we have six distinct operations, to each of which separate attention 
must be paid if the child is to learn to read well. How much better, 
therefore, the methods which select the various operations and train the 
child in them, one by one, than the methods that present all in a mass and 
compel the pupil to pick out the processes for himself. 

Meaning of Analytic Methods in Education. — Every right method is a way 
of assisting some normal psychical process (page 4), and this method of 
" teaching one thing at a time " finds its justification in its relation to the 
mind's analytic function. The immature mind cannot perform the neces- 
sary analysis for itself; if it could it would need no instruction. But it is 
overwhelmed by the mass of facts confronting it. It is the function of the 
teacher so to subdivide and analyze the material, that the pupil's mind shall 
work analytically. A pupil who notices the sounds that his teacher is mak- 
ing, and then attempts to reproduce them, is performing mental analysis. 
There is one thing presented to him, and all his attention is concentrated 
upon that one thing. An analytic i?iethod in education always consists in 
resolving a subject into its component members, and in presenting these mem- 
bers, one at a time, to the mind's activities to work upon. 

Advantages of Analytic Method. — Its main advantage i?, of course, that 
it is based upon and aids a fundamental function of mind, one which must 
be used if knowledge is to be gained. But there are minor advantages 
which may be noticed. 

(i) It economizes mental Energy. — When the mind is called upon to pay 
attention to something which contains a number of unfamiliar factors, it is 
really called upon to attend to that number of subjects at once. The result 
is that mental energy is diffused, scattered and largely wasted. There is 
greater strain upon the mind than if one point were presented at a time, 
but less is accomplished. 



SUMMARY OF PRINCIPLES. 1 69 

(it) It defines mental Products. — A distinct mental product is one which 
has by attention been differentiated from others (page 59). Paying atten- 
tion to one thing at a time, therefore, necessarily makes distinct what is at- 
tended to. On the other hand, when subjects are presented, en masse, as 
it were, everything is undefined, vague and blurred. 

(Hi) It excludes irrelevant Material. — The tendency of the mind to asso- 
ciate whatever is presented at the same time whether it should be connected 
or not, has been noticed (page 32). Unless pains are taken to select one 
thing and fix attention upon that, the mind is almost sure to include much 
that should not be included. When a pupil tells a teacher that "Columbus 
knew the earth was round because he balanced an egg on the table ;" it is 
easy to laugh at him ; but the probability is that these two statements had 
been presented to him in such juxtaposition amid a jumble of facts that his 
mind naturally associated them. 

(iv) It prepares the way for Memory. — It has already been sufficiently 
repeated that memory is not a general power, but that there is a memory 
for everything learned, depending upon the vividness, distinctness and con- 
nections of the original apprehension. When one thing is attended to at a 
time, the requirements of correct apprehension are so well met that remem- 
bering follows naturally. 

(v) It forms the analytic Habit. 

When we say that a man has a trained mind, that he has his 
mental powers under good command, we almost always mean 
that he is able in any subject he tal s up to seize upon its im- 
portant points, to distinguish them clearly, and hold them 
firmly, no matter how complicated and confused the subject 
upon its surface. This means that he has acquired one of the 
best, if not the best, results of intellectual training — an analytic 
habit of mind ; a habit of grasping and defining leading facts 
and principles. If educators invariably follow the principle 
here laid down, the inducement to form this habit is strong, 
Paying attention to " one thing at a time," the mind is gradually 
led to look for the " one thing " which underlies a varied mass 
of facts ; it feels irritated and ill at ease until this unity is 
discovered, so that finally the pupil is able to dispense with the 
teachers preparatory analysis. 



I70 SUMMARY OF PRINCIPLES. 

2. Teach in a connected Manner. 

This principle bears the same relation to the Synthetic Function of mind 
that the one just given does to the analytic function. The method based 
upon it may be termed, therefore, the synthetic method. This method de- 
mands that certain conditions be met both upon the side of the pupil and of 
the. teacher. 

It demands of the teacher : 

(i) Unity of aim, or an Educational Ideal. 

A teacher who does not have, in every detail of his school work, a pur- 
pose larger than that detail, must not only fall into a mechanical way of 
teaching, but must teach in a disconnected dispersive manner. There is 
no one end which runs through his class-work, his discipline, his inter- 
course with pupils, etc., welding them into a unity. But a teacher possessed 
of a practical ideal, that of forming good habits of mind in his students, will 
by this, ideal connect all details, no matter how diverse they may be in 
themselves. 

(it) That the teacher be systematic. 

The teacher must have a definite and comprehensive idea of what he is 
going to do in a given term. He must have his plans laid for an educa- 
tional campaign. He must have a conception of what he is going to ac- 
complish and by what means. 

(Hi) That instruction be graded. 

There must be gradual advance from the easy to the difficult, from the 
simple to the complex, from the familiar to the novel. It was a saying of 
the schoolmen that nature never makes leaps. In this respect, instruction 
should "follow nature." It should have the continuity, the silent, imper- 
ceptible yet inevitable progress that marks natural growth. 

So far as the pupil is concerned, the synthetic method re- 
quires : 

(i) That knowledge begin with presentation. This is for two 
reasons : because in training the perceptive powers a 1 I the powers 
of the mind are trained, and, because representative knowledge 
must be capable of translation into presentative. 

That knowledge should be connected is our general principle. It cannot 
be connected if there are representative or symbolic ideas incapable of 



SUMMARY OF PRINCIPLES. 171 

translation into presentations. Such ideas would be isolated and meaning- 
less. Nor can it be connected unless there is an orderly development or 
unfolding of the powers involved in getting knowledge. The necessity of 
translating images and concepts into percepts has already been dwelt upon, 
and so we shall occupy ourselves here with the other part of the maxim. 
This is sometimes stated : Train the faculties in the order of their develop- 
ment, first, perception, then memory and imagination, then reasoning. But 
a more adequate statement would be : Train perception always, and in 
such a way that the other powers shall grow from it. For the first state- 
ment seems merely to imply that memory, imagination, etc., come after 
perception, losing sight of the important fact that they come after, only be- 
cause they come from perception. In other words, all mental activities are 
exercised in perception, and exercised in such a way that they naturally and 
gradually pass into higher forms. 

Activities involved in Perception. — If perception were the same as having 
sensations, this principle would not be true ; and any educational system 
which puts the chief emphasis upon the senses, inverts the true order. Sensa- 
tions are necessary, as affording stimuli to call forth the mental powers, and 
as affording material upon which these powers shall act. Sensations must 
be attended to, must be associated, must be idealized and retained in order 
to become knowledge. 

A right training of perception trains, therefore, all the mental activities 
involved in it, instead of merely heaping up sensations, or even training 
the sense organs alone. For example, take the intuitive method of teaching 
numbers. Here the child learns, say that . . and . m m are the same 
as . ; ; and as *|; I If the sensations the child gets were the only result 
of the process, the method would be useless. For the time must come when 
he will have to grasp the relations involved, and experiencing sensations any 
number of times, would not give any preparation for the apprehension of 
relations. But in reality, the child relates the sensations of . m and of 
and only because he relates them does he perceive anything. 

The child makes or institutes the relation, and thus necessarily prepares 
the way for conception or the conscious grasping of the relation. He per- 
forms, without recognizing its full significance, a kind of relating identical 
with that performed by the most advanced mathematician in the highest 
branches, and so far as the child grasps the meaning of elementary ideas 
in any subject, he is employing, however unconsciously, the relations whose 
conscious apprehension constitutes thinking. 

The two Factors in Training of Perception. — In order to establish a con- 
nected growth from perception, there are, in its training, two points in 



[•J 2 SUMMARY OF PRINCIPLES. 

particular, to be looked after. One is identifying the presentation with 
what has already been presented, recog7iition ; the other is the discovery of 
something implied in the perception, but not apparent on the surface, its 
differentiation. The recognition of the presentation implies, of course, that 
former knowledge, organized capacities, are brought to bear ; that what is 
now perceived is assimilated to what was formerly perceived. This en- 
sures not only the recognition of the new presentation, but the strengthen- 
ing of the acquired faculty by its exercise. This recognizing activity is evi- 
dently involved in the simplest perception, as e. g. that by which the child 
sees that c-a-t spells cat, and is also involved in that by which the older 
student identifies a botanical species, perceives the principle which covers a 
mathematical problem, or sees that the form of some given Greek word 
illustrates a law of euphonic change. 

But there should be in all perception a new factor as well as an old. 
The child who sees that . , and ... is the same as "\. '. sees it only 
by putting together the first two number-forms and taking apart the last. He 
perceives the identity by discovering it, by making it. So when a child 
puts the sounds of the letters c,a,t to make the word, he not only recog7iizes, 
but he discovers. In higher education we have clearly the factor of dis- 
covery in scientific experiment, in the demonstration of original proposi- 
tions, in the analysis of unfamiliar plants, in the dissection of animals, etc. 
But it is a mistake to suppose that experiment and an element of original 
investigation are confined to advanced pursuits, or to natural and physical 
sciences. They are involved to some degree in every act of perception 
which gives new knowledge, and education should be so directed as to em- 
ploy in all stages this acquisition of new knowledge by perception. New 
knowledge is obtained only through an act of construction, or synthesis, 
and this is, in reality, an act of discovery. It should be noticed that the 
new combination of these two factors of recognition and discovery renders 
knowledge connected. The old is made the basis of apprehending the new, 
while the new is made the means of extending or developing the old. 

(ii) The synthetic method demands that facts be Ci nn cted to- 
gether by the laws of association and by the relations of unity and 
difference so that they form centres or groups of ideas. 

An isolated fact is learned by the pupil only through sheer force of im- 
pressing it on his mind. Both brain and mind are plastic in childhood, and 
there is no doubt that the child can store away multitudes of comparatively 
unconnected facts. But this method does rot train mental power; it gives no 
strength to old capacities, and no aid to the organization of new. Further- 



StJMMARV OF PRINCIPLES. 173 

more, this method draws wastefully upon mental energy ; the facts are 
learned by an expenditure of force, and are carried by expenditure of force ; 
in both ways, the mind is burdened. But facts learned by associations and 
relations, strengthen and form faculty in the very process of making 
the connections, or appropriating the material. Further, the mind gains 
instead of losing in carrying power by its assimilation of facts so learned. 
These connected ideas serve as centres about which allied ideas gather ; 
thus they carry, others, instead of having to be carried by the energy of the 
mind. 

Training of Connection of Ideas. — It is impossible here to lay down de- 
tailed rules for connecting ideas in various studies. There are, however, 
some facts bearing upon the subject which may be called to mind. First, 
this connecting activity is normal to the mind ; the mind strives to connect 
whenever it can, and the teacher can accomplish much by presenting ma- 
terial so that the child's mind is drawn on naturally from one point to an- 
other. Again, a unity of feeling, or of interest, will connect ideas or subjects 
otherwise diverse. Children at play thus unite all kinds of ideas. The 
story has recently been told of children who began by building houses in a 
sand pile, and went on gradually to the development of agricultural, manu- 
facturing, railway and commercial establishments, comprehending in all a 
vast number of different activities. A unity of interest made the transi- 
tions. And so it will be in schools. Again, the subjects of reading, spell- 
ing, writing, composition, history and geography may undoubtedly be 
better interwoven with one another than they have hitherto been. Indeed, 
of all the branches of study in earlier years, arithmetic is the only one 
which does not lend itself easily, and almost inevitably, to union with other 
studies if the principle of interconnection is once grasped. 

(Hi) The synthetic method demands that the groups of ideas 
thus formed be used as organs for acquiring new knowledge. 

This principle has two sides. A pupil who has learned, for example, the 
simple arithmetical operations must, on the one hand, constantly use them ; 
must add, subtract, etc.; and, on the other hand, must gain new arithmetical 
knowledge as an expansion or development of these operations. Old 
knowledge must be exercised in gaining new presentations, and these must 
be assimilated or appropriated by being brought into organic union with 
acquired knowledge. Old knowledge identifies or grasps the new present- 
ation, the new presentation strengthens, expands and organizes old know- 
ledge. There must be apperception on one side ; retention on the other. 



174 SUMMARY OF PRINCIPLES. 

Applications of Principle. — The principle requires, first, frequent reviews 
of former knowledge. Reviews have as their purpose not merely repeating 
former knowledge, and thus impressing it more deeply upon the mind, but 
also its grouping and classifying. It is important that the pupil should be 
led to form the habit of re-arranging what he has learned ; of bringing it 
under its proper heads, and of placing these heads in their proper relations 
to one another. In reviews, therefore, the serial order should often be 
changed for a topical order. A trained mind, after having amassed many 
facts, always endeavors to reduce them to as few principles as possible. 
This process not only assists the mind in grasping the real meaning of the 
facts, but it trains thought and memory. The reasoning powers are trained 
in the effort to discover the underlying principles, and to connect the facts 
with them. The memory is developed because only the principles have to 
be remembered ; the facts cluster about them as instances or illustrations. 

The principle requires, secondly, that there be mental prepaiation for 
engaging in studying or in learning. That is, before a pupil enters upon 
the study of a new subject his mind must be prepared for it : before he 
takes up a new topic or principle, his mind must be prepared, and 
before he sets himself to learn any lessons there must be preparatory 
adjustment of mind. This preparation consists, partly, in Stirling up 
ideas already in the mind, in re-awakening interest in them, and in calling 
them into activity; and, partly, in forming transitions, in showing how these 
ideas lead naturally to something else. Without this preparatory activity 
no attention can be given (pages 61 and 62), and hence what is studied 
is not connected with what has previously been learned, and there is no 
assimilation nor comprehension. 

This principle requires, thirdly, that old knowledge be exercised. There 
are two injunctions of equal importance to the teacher. One is that new 
knowledge be not simply impressed upon the mind : the other is that old 
knowledge be not simply stored or passively retained in the mind. Con- 
stantly employing what has been learned guards against both these errors. 
To use grammatical principles in analyzing speech, in correcting errors, in 
constructing new sentences, etc., enlarges and organizes these principles, 
and at the same time causes what is learned to gather about them, and to 
gain meaning from them. Old knowledge and new facts are thus so con- 
nected together that both are made vital. Kept apart, both are dead. 
Just as the body must have nourishment in order to keep itself living, and 
just as food by becoming nourishment is itself transformed from dead to 
living material, so with the mind and its food-studies. Unless the mind 
constantly uses what it has gained to gain more, it loses what it has pos- 
sessed ; and unless what is gained is connected with mental power already 
existing, it is a burden rather than a gain. 



SUMMARY OF PRINCIPLES. i 75 

Analytic and Synthetic Methods.— We may sum up 
our discussion of methods by calling attention to three facts. 
1. All special methods are only applications to particular 
branches of the analytic and synthetic methods. 2. These two 
methods do not exclude, but supplement, each other. 3. They 
are not to be confused with physical division and composition. 

i. Since the fundamental powers or functions of mind are 
analysis and synthesis, since all that is ever learned is learned 
by being distinguished from and connected with other ideas, 
it follows that all educational methods must rest upon these 
powers. Any method in any subject that has value, must 
appeal, to some extent, to the discriminating and the unifying 
functions of intelligence, and the best method is that which 
appeals to them in the most systematic way, and which stimu- 
lates them to the fullest and most intense activity. In his 
knowledge of these powers every teacher has an instrument by 
which he may test for himself the value of any special method 
which is proposed. 

2. Since mental analysis and synthesis are not separate, 
much less opposed, functions of mind, it follows that analytic and 
synthetic educational methods cannot be opposed. Indeed, 
we should rather speak of the analytic and synthetic aspects of 
an educational method, than of an analytic and a synthetic 
method. It follows that discussions as to whether geography, 
for example, should be taught by an analytic or a synthetic 
method, rest upon failure to understand the meaning of the 
terms used, and of the mental processes involved. Methods 
of teaching geography must possess both phases, or else some 
necessary mental operation is left unperformed. What is usually 
presented as the synthetic method, beginning, namely, with the 
locality familiar to the pupil and making divisions of land and 
water known from it, is, in reality, both synthetic and analytic 
It is synthetic, because it connects what the pupil has to learn 



fj6 Summary of principle! 

with what he already knows ; it begins with presentations and 
translates representative ideas into them. But it is also analytic, 
for, by such operations the vague outline-knowledge of the world 
which the child has is transformed into knowledge of the defi- 
nite forms of land and water, etc., that make the world what it is. 
When a child learns that one geographical element is a lake ; 
that a lake has islands, bays, capes, peninsulas, etc., etc., the 
process must be an analytic one. The fact that the child may 
make the analysis by noticing a pond in his own dooryard, does 
not change the process of mind from an analytic into a " syn- 
thetic "one. And this illustration is typical. While in some 
methods, one aspect may predominate over another, yet so far 
as the method is justifiable, it must be both analytic and syn- 
thetic. 

3. The error of opposing mental analysis and synthesis gen- 
erally arises from the prior error of confusing them as mental 
functions with physical operations having the same names. 
Physical analysis, or division of a whole occupying space into 
smaller parts is opposed to physical synthesis, or the composi- 
tion of smaller parts into a larger spatial whole. Thus, in geo- 
graphy, that method has been called synthetic, which begins 
with the small part of the earth known to the pupil, and then 
advances to the larger world ; while the analytic method is sup- 
posed to mean beginning with information about the earth as a 
whole, then taking up smaller subdivisions as continents, and 
gradually coming down to the smaller divisions of country, vil- 
lage, etc. But this misapprehends the real meaning of mental 
analysis and synthesis. The terms do not refer primarily to 
any difference in the size or extent of material objects. Mental 
analysis does not divide spatial wholes, but renders ideas 
definite, that is clear, both as a whole, and in details ; mental 
synthesis does not join parts of objects or of space, but shows 
how ideas are related to one another, how they have a common 
meaning. Distinctness, not separation, unity, not fusion are the 



SUMMARY OF PRINCIPLES. 177 

purposes of mental analysis and synthesis, and these not of ma- 
terial objects, but of knowledge. (See pages 58 and 59.) 

Illustration from Reading. — The same error is seen in many 
of the discussions regarding the synthetic method of teaching 
reading. It is first taken for granted that some spatial unit must 
be found as the basis, and the question is discussed whether 
the unit is the letter, or the word, or the sentence. But in reality, 
what the pupil must begin with is the whole mass of sounds 
that he makes use of in pronouncing wOrds. While these sounds 
in themselves are distinct, to his mind they have no such defi- 
niteness (see p. 80). Undoubtedly the various sounds _/£<?/ differ- 
ent to the child, but this difference is not known or recognized. 
His first act must, therefore, be to notice some of these sounds, 
and through attention dwelling upon them make them distinct. 
He performs an act of analysis. But at the same time, he must 
notice how these sounds go together to make words; and 
his attention dwells upon the relations of the sounds. Thus 
the pupil performs an act of synthesis, or combination. By 
one act his knowledge of the primary sounds of speech be- 
comes definite ; by the other, his knowledge becomes connected, 
By both acts, his fundamental mind functions are trained, and 
the habit of defining and unifying ideas is formed. 

Relations of Knowledge, Feeling and Will. 

While in the previous chapters knowledge, feeling and will 
have been discussed separately, nothing has been said about 
their relations to one another. This subject is, however, im- 
portant to the teacher. Partly from the necessity of the case, 
partly from surrounding circumstances, and partly from the tra- 
ditional school curriculum, direct instruction in our schools is 
confined mainly to knowledge. It is important to know in 
what degree this involves indirect training of feeling and will, 
and also in what degree it needs supplementing. 

The Mind an Organic Unity. — The fact is that knowledge, 
feeling and will are so closely interconnected that it is impos- 

M 



fj& SUMMARY OF PRINCIPLES. 

sible to educate one without at once requiring and securing 
training of the other two. Aside from the fact that appercep- 
tion and retention underlie all these, that the functions of 
analysis and synthesis enter into them all, and that the main 
principles of development (from the presentative and immedi- 
ate to the representative and mediate, etc.) are alike in all, 
the mind is a unity, and primarily it is mind that is affected by 
education and not knowledge, feeling or will. There is but 
one mind, and knowledge, feeling and will are not three depart- 
ments of mind, but three phases of its manifestation. Just as 
it would be impossible for the digestive organs to digest food 
without the aid of the circulatory, the respiratory and the nervous 
processes, and just as the digestion of food must re-act upon 
all these other operations, so the mind cannot know without 
the support of feeling and of will, and without the re-action of 
knowledge upon the emotional disposition and the volitional 
capacities. While in a material or spatial unity, the parts of 
the whole may exist side by side without influencing the struc- 
ture of one another, as grains of sand in a sand-pile, in an 
organic unity, like the mind, each activity or member, is what it 
is by virtue of the other activities or members that influence it. 

Dependence of Knowledge. — In all knowledge which is got by 
study or which requires voluntary attention, the will is evidently 
at work. Voluntary attention means attention directed by the 
will ; that is, attention which has an end before it, and which 
controls all the processes and ideas so as to lead up to this end. 
Study requires that there be control, physical and prudential, 
and generally, in many pupils, sometimes in all pupils, moral 
control. Without the aid and support of will, the obtaining of 
knowledge is a practical impossibility. Knowledge is also 
dependent upon feeling. Interest is a condition of attention, 
non-voluntary as well as voluntary. The mind may know, after 
a fashion, what does not arouse emotion, but it is a superficial 



SUMMARY OF PRINCIPLES. 1 79 

and counterfeit knowledge. To realize the meaning of any- 
thing, to be acquainted with it, means to see it in its bearings 
upon the feelings. The internal appropriation and assimila- 
tion of presentations require not only that they be joined to 
older groups of ideas, but that they be transformed into inter- 
ests and personal emotion : that they be known by the heart 
as well as by the head. 

Dependence of Feeling. — When discussing feeling we called 
attention to two facts : one that feeling is an accompaniment of 
activity, the other that the various kinds of emotion, intellectual, 
aesthetic and personal, depend upon the kinds of objects or 
ideas about which feelings gather — that the distinction between 
them is not so much in difference in them as feelings, as in that 
about which they cluster. These two facts mean, in substance, 
that feeling is dependent upon will and upon knowledge, using 
will in a broad sense to include all psychical activity, and 
knowledge as the presentation of all sorts of objects and ideas. 
The education of perception and of thought, the training of 
attention and association must develop the intellectual emo- 
tions ;.the growth of imagination must bring about a develop- 
ment. of the aesthetic feelings. Growth in personality, in re- 
cognition of other persons, in the recognition and practice of 
duty, carries along with it growth of the personal and moral 
feelings. The religious emotions are not susceptible of culture 
apart from their relation on the one hand to ideas, and on the 
other hand, to conduct. Indeed, it may be laid down as a general 
principle that emotions may be cultivated and even permitted to ex- 
ist only as motives to action and as the internal accompaniments 
of ideas. Feeling of any kind that does not arise from internal 
acquaintance with ideas, from becoming at home with them, 
and which does not induce to action, results in unhealthy and 
morbid sentiment. 

Dependence of Will. — Will involves, as its two essential com- 
ponents, idea and desire, one intellectual, the other emotional. 



l8o SUMMARY OF PRINCIPLES. 

Without the desire, the side of feeling, action is slow and inert, 
having no stimulus. Without the idea, the side of knowledge, 
action is blind, unregulated, capricious. Every growth of 
feeling should result in strengthening some motive to action 
and in making action more energetic ; every growth of know- 
ledge should widen action by giving it a broader end or ideal, 
and should make it more deliberate and reflective. The 
powers of will are trained both in the acts by which knowledge 
is acquired and by the resulting acquisition of knowledge. 
Learning must be based, if we go back to its ultimate founda- 
tion, upon some impulse ; and, as learning advances, this im- 
pulse is controlled by being brought into connection with ideas, 
and by being subjected to desire and choice. The process of 
learning is a volitional one from beginning to end, and as the 
facts of will are exercised, will must be trained. The knowledge 
acquired makes a basis for new activities of will ; it reveals new 
possibilities, and gives new laws by which to control conduct. 

Education of Feeling and of Will. — It is evident from what 
has been said that the objection sometimes brought against 
present systems of education that they are purely intellectual, 
is aside the mark. Any system that really trains intelligence 
must train the emotions and the will. But unless the present 
system is perfect, it is evident that there must be a possibility 
of better training of feeling and volition than that we now have ; 
and, furthermore, that this training will give a better training 
of intellect than that now secured. But this will not involve 
any departure from the precepts already laid down. So far as 
present methods are what they should be, even as training the 
intellect, they rest upon the normal interests and impulses of 
childhood, and train these by subjecting them to association 
and attention, analysis and synthesis, thus necessitating emo- 
tional and volitional training as well as intellectual. Further 
reforms will discover more fully what the normal interests and 
impulses are, and will find better methods for calling out, ex- 



SUMMARY OF PRINCIPLES. l8l 

ercising and developing the impulses, better methods for cul 
hiring and satisfying the interests. In a word, education is 
primarily of the whole personality, and only secondarily of the 
intellect, the feelings, or the will.* 

Criticism of Maxims. — Having discovered the princi- 
ples that lie at the basis of all educational maxims, we may 
discuss briefly some of the current precepts. 

i. The Intellect is a Sum of Different Faculties, each of which 
Requires its own Kind of Culture. — This principle, while not 
always, or even often, distinctly formulated, is assumed as 
the basis of much pedagogical discussion. It violates the 
true principle that intelligence has two fundamental functions 
or powers, analysis and synthesis, both of which are forms of 
relating activity. All faculties must, therefore, be stages in 
the development of these functions, and hence, must be 
trained to some degree by the same kinds of culture. (Pages 
84 and 90.) Methods, for example, which attempt to train 
language apart from thinking, or either language or thinking 
apart from memory and perception, or which train perception 
without reference to the relations of thought implied in the 
perceptions, are inefficient, because opposed to psychological 
facts. 

2. First Form Faculty, then Furnish It — This maxim is sus- 
ceptible of an interpretation which makes it substantially correct, 
but in any case it would be better stated thus : Form faculty by 
furnishing it. The principle is correct in implying that the 
organization and training of mental power is a more import- 
ant end of education than the acquisition of a certain number 
of facts. It is incorrect, so far as it seems to imply that 
faculty can be formed apart from the activity of the mind 
in acquiring knowledge, and apart from the reaction of 
knowledge upon the mind. " For organizing mental faculty 

*See Chap, vi., Training of Desires, Impulses, Character. See also 
Part II, Chapter on Religious and Moral Culture. 



l82 SUMMARY OF PRINCIPLES. 

there is no other means than organized knowledge." Mental 
power and knowledge are not to be opposed, or even separ- 
ated, for they are correlative. (See page 70). 

3. Learn to do by Doing. — This precept has already been 
discussed. (See pages 45 and 129). The principle is true, 
in so far as it recognizes the fact that the self-activity of the 
pupil must be appealed to in all learning, and that it is 
through this activity that the subject gains meaning, and is 
apprehended. The principle becomes false when it loses 
sight of the ideal factor, the element of knowledge required 
for doing ; and when it implies that the doing should be merely 
habitual or mechanical. It, therefore, requires a supplement : 
Lear?i to do by knowing. We might combine the maxims, and 
say : Learn to know by doing, and to do by knowing. 

4. Proceed from the Know?i to the Unknown. — This maxim, 
as requiring the teacher to make what is familiar the basis 
of identifying or acquiring what is unfamiliar, is in line with 
correct psychology. Some educators have opposed the prin- 
ciple, by saying that since all learning involves a new element, 
and this new element transforms what was previously unfamiliar 
or vague into the familiar and definite, instiuction really ad- 
vances from the unknown to the known. But the words are 
not used in the same sense in the two maxims. The maxim, 
" proceed from the known to the unknown," means utilize old 
knowledge in acquiring new;" while the maxim, "from the 
unknown to the known," certainly does not mean " make the 
unknown the basis of acquiring the known." It means that 
it is through the presentation of the unknown that what 
was previously known is enlarged and strengthened, or that 
the presentation of the unfamiliar is necessary to the deve- 
lopment of the familiar. From the known to the unknown 
corresponds to apperception. From the unknown to the known 
to retention. That is, one expresses the action of the mind 



SUMMARY OF PRINCIPLES. 1 83 

upon the presentation ; the other, the effect which the pre- 
sentation has upon the mind. 

5. Proceed from the Concrete to the Abstract. — This precept 
also has been already referred to. (Page 80). Taken literally 
it is impossible, for there is no concrete knowledge with 
which to begin. Nor is it true as implying that definite know- 
ledge is easier to get than general knowledge. It is just as 
difficult, requires as much preparation, as much mental energy, 
and as much maturity of mind, to make a clear distinction as to 
make broad generalization. Both processes, in fact, occur 
together as different aspects of comparison. To transform 
knowledge from hazy into definite, and from isolated into con- 
nected forms, are both ends of instruction, and the educator 
cannot safely assume that either process has been already ac- 
complished before his work begins. Undoubtedly many who 
use the precept have a correct meaning back of it, but this 
meaning would be better expressed : Develop representations 
from presentations. 

6. There are two maxims apparently wholly opposed to each 
other, often seen in educational works : " Follow the order of na- 
ture, not the order of the subject, first synthesis and then analysis? 
and "Proceed from the whole to the part." Regarding the first prin- 
ciple one author writes : " If in language, or in grammar we begin 
with grammar and pass to its divisions, learn of what each treats, 
take up parts of speech, and the properties of each, etc., we teach 
by analysis. If we begin with words, learn that they are of differ- 
ent kinds, as names, action-words, quality- words, etc., then learn 
their properties, and pass gradually up to the subject, grammar, 
we teach by synthesis. It is evident that the synthetic method 
is the method of nature, while the analytic is the logical order of 
the subject." But, what is really " evident " is that the method 
here termed synthetic is just as much analytic as synthetic. It 
is synthetic, because it begins with what is most familiar to the 
child, and advances to that more remote from his present at- 



184 SUMMARY OF PRINCIPLES. 

tainments ; it is analytic because it begins with the vague out- 
line-knowledge of words the child has, and fixes his attention 
upon differences of function and value, hitherto unnoticed, in 
words (by which some are nouns, others verbs, etc.) and thus 
defines his knowledge. Thus we get another illustration of the 
fact that the two methods cannot be separated. The other 
precept, " from the whole to the part," is correct, if it be clearly 
borne in mind that the ' whole ' does not refer to the objective 
whole, that is, the whole as it exists apart from the child's 
knowledge, but to the vague outline existing in his mind, the 
subjective whole. Instruction must begin with this and draw out 
and emphasize some one aspect, or relation of it, thus clearing 
up knowledge. The two principles, that of " whole to part," 
and " first synthesis then analysis," while opposed to each other 
if wrongly interpreted, supplement each other if each be under- 
stood as it should be. 

7. Teach Only What is Understood. — The maxim, in its 
true meaning is identical with the precept already laid down. 
Make instruction significant. It must be remembered that a 
great many things are both interesting and significant to a 
child that are not so to an adult — for example, the forms, of 
letters and of words, the sounds of speech simply as sounds, etc. 

8. " Teach Ideas before Words" or as some give it, 
" Teach things not names" In its latter form the precept is, 
taken literally, meaningless. Things cannot be taught till 
they have been transformed into meaning and ideas. And 
language is one of the chief means of transformation. In the 
other form the maxim is valuable as a protest against a 
merely verbal instruction, which makes children glib reciters of 
rules, definitions and textual statements, and even expert per- 
formers of arithmetical operations, or of grammatical analysis, 
and yet leaves them with no recognition of the meaning of the 
subjects. But the maxim, so far as it seems to underrate the 



SUMMARY OF PRINCIPLES. 1 85 

value of language in aiding knowledge of objects, is, as already 
noticed (page 108), wholly erroneous. We may notice a few 
reasons. First, consciousness which is wholly presentative, that 
is, which does not contain a symbolic or representative factor, is 
meaningless. (See page 74). Language is the simplest, easiest 
and most efficient way, upon the whole, of introducing this 
representative factor into the mind. What it means can be 
seen by comparing the knowledge of deaf mutes with that of 
speaking people ; and by calling to mind that the first step in 
educating deaf-mutes is to give' them some form of language. 

' Secondly, words make knowledge of objects both general and 
definite. They make it general by fixing attention upon the 
class-qualities, upon the generic properties of the object. They 
make it definite by seizing upon some quality of the object and 
making that a handle, as it were, by which the object may 
always be grasped. The mind is always restless till it knows 
the name of an object; if there is no recognized name, one is 
given as soon as possible. This is not only for the convenience 
of communication, but for the purpose of defining the object 
to one's self. It fixes the object, singles it cut of the mass of 
surrounding and similar objects, and gives it an individuality of 
its own. The development of language in the race and in the 
child, shows clearly that names, at first, simply express the most 
salient or prominent quality of the object. Indeed, to a baby, 
the name is the most definite quality the object possesses; he 
repeats the name every time he sees the object, not to call the 
attention of others to it, but to recall the object to his own 
mind; in other words, to define it. That animals do not have 
language is as much because their knowledge is vague as 
because it is not generalized. 

Thirdly, names are condensations, concentrations of past 
knowledge. They introduce the immature mind at once into 
a fullness and richness of knowledge which it would take the 



1 86 SUMMARY OF PRINCIPLES. 

child years to learn for himself; which indeed he would never 
learn. It is a common-place to say that a school-child of to- 
day may have more astronomical knowledge than Sir Isaac 
Newton had. The reason is found in language. .Words sum 
up and condense into themselves the science and civilization of 
the race. A right use of language in teaching, therefore, is 
necessary to lift the child from his individual isolation and 
put him, as regards knowledge of things, upon the plane of his 
race. Much could be said of the necessity of language as an 
instrument of general culture, but the three reasons given are 
confined to the one point of the relation of names to the know- 
ledge of objects. 

9. " Let Education follow Nature' 1 — This precept is so vague 
that it might be dismissed at once. But in spite of its vague- 
ness it is sometimes employed so as to do much harm. Its only 
true meaning is that educational methods should rest upon psy- 
chical processes normal to the child's mind, and should stimu- 
late and train them. It is sometimes perverted to mean that 
there is some force called Nature which will carry on education 
of itself, and which should not be interfered with by educators ; 
or, that Nature lays down laws so clearly that the educator 
need not have special knowledge or art of his own ; or that 
Nature provides models so distinr.t that no one can err in fol- 
lowing them, and so perfect that the teacher cannot improve 
upon them. All this is either mythology robing itself in the 
garb of science, or it is a vague way of covering up ignorance 
with the pretence of knowledge. The teacher must, indeed 
know the nature of his pupil. He must, like the Great 
Teacher, know what is in man in order that he may educate 
him for manhood, but, unlike the Great Teacher, he has need 
of definite study to find out what man is — what he is in actu- 
ality and in possibility. 



METHOD OF INTERROGATION. 1 87 



CHAPTER IX. 

THF. METHOD OF INTERROGATION : ART OF QUESTIONING. 

General Method. — We have seen (page 167, et scq) that 
special methods of instruction rest upon Analysis and Synthesis, 
and that the Analytic and Synthetic Methods in education are 
not independent but complementary, being in fact but different 
aspects of the one psychological method which must be followed 
in all normal instruction. Without perplexing the student, 
therefore, with a minute classification of methods, it is only 
necessary to state that we may appeal to the Analytic and 
Synthetic functions of mind chiefly in two ways, viz. : by direct, 
continuous Exposition (the Expository Method) ; or by Interro- 
gation (the Socratic Method) ; i. e., we may by Questioning, 
with occasional expositions or suggestions, direct the learner in 
the processes of Recogniti07i arid Discovery (page 172). The 
method of Questioning is of most value in primary and inter- 
mediate education, and that method we shall now study. 

Of all the qualifications that go to make the successful 
teacher, ability to question well is probably the most impoitant. 
The prime object of teaching is to get the learner to think for 
himself. This means that his mind is in the proper attitude 
and that the material for thought is properly presented. These 
conditions secure a vital, organic relation between the prepared 
mind and the presented material, that is, the material really 
enters into the structure of knowledge, and its acquisition 
mlarges the structure of mind. 

Importance of the Art.— To secure these conditions 
a\id to test the value of the results, judicious questioning is the 
surest means. It may be said, indeed, that the Art of Ques- 
tioning is the Art of Teaching. Whoever can question well can 



l88 METHOD OF INTERROGATION. 

teach well ; whoever fails in this point fails in all. Natural en- 
dowments, accurate scholarship, professional knowledge and 
experience, are required for excellence in this method of instruc 
tion. Valuable as the method is, no great prominence has 
hitherto been given to its study in institutions for the training 
of teachers. It seems to have been taken for granted that if a 
teacher knows a subject well he can question upon it well ; an 
outgrowth, or perhaps a modified form, of the long prevalent 
error that knowledge of a subject is identical with ability to 
teach it. The fallacy of this assumption is now generally recog- 
nised. Learning, energy, enihusiasm, knowledge of the theory 
and practice of teaching, will prove comparatively ineffective 
without this Socratic qualification, ability to question well, the 
rarest of attainments, the Master Art of the teacher's calling. 

Principles and Practice. — Skill in the art of question- 
ing is to be acquired as skill in any other art is acquired, by 
long and patient practice ; one learns to do by doing ; one 
learns to question by questioning. But, in accordance with what 
has been established in our psychology, here, as everywhere, the 
co-ordinate maxim has its place : By knowing, learn to do. 
Mere practice does not make experience in the true sense of the 
word ; it must be intelligent practice. Rules of art are derived 
from principles of science, and unless the " doer " has a clear 
knowledge of rules and of their underlying principles, he is not 
likely to acquire artistic skill in their practical application. It 
is a common mistake to assume that mere lapse of time, as it 
were, results in experience. On the contrary, there is many a 
" practical " man — so far as time spent in " doing " is con- 
cerned — that is thoroughly unpractical, and many an " experi- 
enced " one quite without experience. An experience which is 
not the result of sound principles and their wise application, 
gives special powers and tendencies to work in the wrong direc- 
tion, a fatal facility for leaving undone the things that ought to 
be done, and doing the things that ought not to be done. 



METHOD OF INTERROGATION. 1 89 

It is not an uncommon thing to hear a teacher boasting of 
his long experience, and even claiming special privileges on 
account of it, who in his actual school work violates almost 
every principle of scientific method, and who, in consequence 
of his "experience," is beyond hope of improvement. It may 
be well, then, to indicate the principles on which the art of 
questioning rests, and since method in teaching is little more 
than method in questioning, to discuss as fully as may be, such 
practical applications as may help the young teacher to begin 
right, to continue right, and so, with the least possible waste of 
time and power, to attain that true experience which comes from 
right doing guided by right knowing 

Division of the Subject. — It has already been suggested 
that teaching and learning are based on the two fundamental pro- 
cesses, Apperception — the process of taking anything into the 
mind ; and Retention — the effect which the material when appre- 
hended, has upon the mind itself. These two processes are, as 
we have seen, mutually dependent ; there can be no retention 
without clear apprehension ; and, on the other hand, every 
new apprehension modifies mind, and so has its effect in inter- 
preting new experiences. The teacher should, therefore, bear in 
mind that the two conditions of learning are, on the one hand, 
proper presentation of material, and on the other hand, proper 
preparation of mind. In the light of this principle, we may con- 
sider (I) The Objects of Questioning, or what may be accom- 
plished by it; (II) The Qualifications of the Questioner; (III) 
The Form and Matter of Questions; (IV) The Form and 
Matter of Answers. If the first topic is fully discussed, it is 
evident that the principles of the other three may be easily 
dedaced. Since the two processes, apperception and reten- 
tion, are reciprocal, the one -necessarily implying the other, it 
is not easy to classify the objects of questioning as belonging 
definitely to one process rather than to the other. But it will 
be convenient to classify them roughly under these heads, i.e., 



I90 METHOD OF INTERROGATION. 

we shall consider the Objects, or Purposes, of Questioning as 
(a) concerned with the Presentation of Material, or with the 
Testing of Retention ; (b) as concerned with the Preparation of 
Mind, or the Training of Apperception. 

I. Objects, or Purposes of Questioning. 

Testing Retention. — Under (a) we may consider the follow- 
ing important purposes : 1. To Discuss Actual Knowledge ; 
2. To Fix Actual Knowledge ; 3. To Extend, or Enlarge Ac- 
tual Knowledge — the vague made definite, the imperfect made 
accurate, new knowledge imparted ; and 4. To Cultivate Power 
of Expression, and thus aid both these fundamental Processes ; 
this of course, belongs equally to subdivision, (b). 

Training Apperception. — Under (b) may be considered the 
following purposes : 1. To Excite Interest ; 2. To Arouse 
Attention : 3. To Direct Attention ; 4. To Cultivate Habit of 
Self- Direction of Attention, i.e., Habit of Self-Questioning. 

(a) Testing Retention : Presentation of Material. 

1. To Discover the Pupil's Knowledge. — This is one of the 
first requisites in preparing to give a new lesson. For the new 
lesson must have some logical connection with what was 
previously taught ; it can be interpreted only by what has been 
retained from former lessons, and so it is impossible effectively 
to aid the learner to assimilate the new with the old, unless we 
know what the old is and how it stands in the learner's mind. 
If this is not known we may waste time in two ways. 

Presenting too Easy Stimulus. — (See page in.)— In 
the first place : We may dwell upon what is already perfectly 
known to the learner, and thus, by monotonous repetitiqn of 
what has lost all charm of novelty, quench rather than excite 
interest. The tendency of certain modern methods is strongly 
in this direction. Ingenious minds have long been in travail 
to discover a royal road to learning ; they have at last dis- 



METHOD OF INTERROGATION. 10 1 

covered it by the simple expedient of removing difficulties in- 
stead of developing strength to conquer them. It appears to 
be thought that the teacher can take the place of the learner 
by properly preparing the material, that is by atomizing know- 
ledge, the mental aliment, and administering it in homoeo- 
pathic doses to the recipient mind. Or, if it is admitted that 
the child must himself climb the arduous ladder that leads to 
the high plane of capacity and skill, the ladder, it is thought, 
can be freed from all its arduousness by indefinitely diminishing 
the distance between the rounds. If anyone thinks this is too 
strongly put, let him open almost any educational journal or 
recent educational work, and he will find abundant proof of the 
prevalence of the theory : " develop strength by making things 
easy." Witness the infinitesimal doses prescribed in " model " 
number lessons, language lessons, etc. Witness the " mob " of 
questions that the young teacher is recommended to ask on 
three or four lines of a common reading lesson, a mere scrap 
which can never enter into organized knowledge nor have any 
effect in organizing faculty. Witness the trivial " develop- 
ment " questions recommended for the evolution of ideas which 
are already in the child's mind, if he has a minimum of brain- 
power, as clearly as they can be there, in his presumed stage of 
mental growth. 

Questions should Stimulate.— Is it necessary, is it 
good method, to give forty or fifty pages of questions on the 
numbers from one to five? Are from ioo to 300 questions 
required for reasonable practice on the number two ? as e.g., 
How many thumbs on the right hand ? How many on the left ? 
How many on both hands ? John had one apple and his sister 
gave him another, how many had he then ? Two birds are 
sitting on a tree, if one bird flies away how many will be left ? 
How many eyes has Willie ? If he shuts one how many will 
remain open ? And so on, if not ad i?ifinitum, certainly ad 



192 METHOD OF INTERROGATION. 

nauseam, in the case of every child with a modicum of brains. 
Such questioning at last loses all power to stimulate, and the 
answers become simply an exercise in " dead vocables." Merely 
verbal repetition cannot strengthen intelligence, and so drill — 
the mighty instrument of little men— may be carried to a point 
where it is not only useless, but positively pernicious. 

In primary schools, perhaps in all schools, incalculable time 
is wasted in a wearisome monotony of drills, tending to form 
merely sensuous associations, and continued long after such 
associations have been actually formed. Let the teacher be on 
his guard against the atomic method in questioning — a cut- 
feed method which may be, presumably, suited to the capacity 
of the " missing link," but is a positive hindrance to an intel- 
ligent child. 

It is safe to assume that where there is a healthy brain there 
is mind ; where there is mind there is capacity for attention, 
for self-active direction of normal power, and that this self- 
activity of mind works with effect, because it works with interest 
when operating upon material that challenges effort. There is 
little doubt that many a child loses interest in the inane things 
presented as mental pabulum, and is pronounced " dull " when 
he is only disgusted and " inattentive " when he is but attentive 
to his own more interesting trains of ideas. The conclusion of 
the matter is : do not waste time and mental force in asking too 
many questions of the past — questions which are below the 
child's actual capacity and attainments, which begin, continue, 
and end in the " concrete," which destroy interest, and hence 
disqualify the mind rather than prepare it, for the reception and 
elaboration of new material. 

Teaching too Difficult Matter.— In the second place : 

The teacher must discover the child's knowledge in order to 
avoid the other extreme — the presentation of material, which is 
beyond the child's power to assimilate. This error, is in 



MEtliOD OF INTERROGATION. i03 

Canadian Schools, more common than that described in the fore- 
going paragraph, and is perhaps equally harmful. Learning is 
a process of interpretation, that is, the knowledge acquired yes- 
terday must be used to interpret what is presented to-day. 
There is learning, therefore, only when there is bringing to bear 
past experiences upon the new material. If this material is 
" above the learner's head," how is it possible that there can be 
assimilation ? If A, B, C are related ideas in a certain topic, and 
the learner is in possession of A but not of B, it is worse than 
useless to present C to him ; his mind cannot be brought into 
relation with C. There may be clear arrangement, fluent ex- 
position, and apposite illustration, and yet on the part of the 
learner there is neither knowledge-growth nor mind-growth ; 
and the teacher is left to wonder how so " excellent a lesson " 
should be to the pupil words and nothing more. Even good 
teachers are prone to this error of asking questions of the 
future. A teacher of zeal and energy is anxious for the pro- 
gress of his pupils ; he is tempted to forget that there is no 
possibility of forcing progress — which is a thing of growth re- 
sulting only from the self-activity of the mental organism — he 
gives a long but lucid lesson ; he has not time to test fully on 
retention, but finding that part of the lesson seems to have 
been fairly taken in, he hastily concludes that all has been 
appropriated, and so, when he proceeds to give a new lesson 
logically depending on the last, he finds, after much waste of 
energy and much discouragement to the learner, that he has 
been vainly appealing to groups of ideas and to a power of 
comprehension that as yet do not exist. 

True Assimilation — It must never be forgotten that the 
apprehension — the interpretation — of the new matter must 
occur through what the mind has already within itself ; that is 
to say, the interpretation, the true assimilation, occurs not 
merely through certain ideas or groups of ideas held in the 
mind, luut through an increased mental power — capacity in a 
N 



T94 METHOD OF INTERROGATION. 

given direction, developed in acquiring such ideas. If, for 
example, a young pupil has mastered the number five, he is 
not only in possession of certain ideas concerning the number 
(such as 4 and i are 5, 5 less 1 is 4, etc), but in getting these 
ideas his mind has acquired increased capacity for grasping 
number-relations in general. Thus, also, if a teacher attempts 
to teach the number 7 before the pupil has a clear apprehen- 
sion of the number 6, he is not only appealing to ideas not yet 
in the child's mind — for 6 is a thought in 7 — but he is as- 
suming a higher power of grasping relations than the child has 
yet acquired. 

What Is Known and How. — It is clear, therefore, 

that before beginning a new lesson the teacher must find out 
exactly what the child knows, and how he knows it, i.e., how 
he has acquired it ; whether by mere sensuous association 
(verbal memory) — in which case the ideas are held mechani- 
cally in the mind and have no interpreting power — or by true 
assimilation, in which case not only are the ideas there, but 
also the capacity to use them, Yet, it is to be feared, that with 
the majority of teachers, the object of questioning is to test 
what the child knows, rather than how he knows it ; that is, the 
questions are a test of what is held mechanically in the mind, 
but not a test of power developed. The thoughtful teacher pro- 
poses to act on the maxim : " From the Known to the related 
Unknown." What course does he pursue? He endeavors 
to see clearly the logical connection of the new lesson with what 
is already in the learner's mind ; he carefully analyzes it and 
notes the relations of the several parts so as to present the new 
material properly arranged ; he tests the " known " in the 
learner's mind, and the power developed in acquiring it ; he 
stimulates this power, and brightens up and brings to the 
front the ideas involved in the known ; he leads the pupil to 
create for himself the relations between the new and the old. 
Thus there is real assimilation ; there are both apperception 



MEtHOi) Of INTfiRROGAtlON. t% 

and retention ; there is growth in organized power and in organ- 
ized knowledge. In such instruction there is pleasure to the 
teacher from the conscious success in waking up mind, and 
pleasure to the learner from the conscious increase in apper- 
ceiving power. 

2. To Fix Knowledge: Retention by Repetition. — The law 
of Retention is fundamental in all education ; it operates 
in the acquiring of any kind of manual dexterity, in forming 
labour-saving mental and physical habits, as well as in the 
higher forms of psychical development. It is the foundation of 
the Law of Repetition which is so important in the primary 
stage of education, and so useful in all stages. For example : 
A child, in imitation of his teacher, tentatively produces a certain 
articulate sound ; the approximately correct utterance makes 
clearer the idea of the sound; frequent repetition gives the power 
to make the sound at-will ; on still further repetition there re- 
sults ability to produce the sound without effort, i.e., without the 
conscious intervention of the will. This illustration is typical 
of what takes place in all forms of physical and mental growth ; 
it shows how " doing " helps knowing, how " knowing " helps 
doing, and how both aid Retention, the process by which the ma- 
terial of instruction is wrought over into powers and capacities, 
tendencies and tastes. 

Mental Activity to be Repeated. — The teacher should 
note that it is mental activity in the act of apprehension that is to 
be repeated, rather than the impression on the mind, which may 
be due to merely sensuous association, or rote learning. Even 
in what we have termed the mechanical stage, discipline is 
to be the aim, that is, there is to be suitable appeal to the 
opening intelligence. The law is, in brief, not impression 
and repetition of impression, but rather Self-activity and 
Repetition Of Self-activity. Self-activity is to be awakened 
and guided chiefly by the method of Interrogation. The 
teacher makes a preparatory analysis of the subject ; he pre- 



to6 Method of Interrogation. 

sents the results of this analysis point by point ; by skilful 
questioning he guides the mind of the pupil in discriminating 
i.e., in working analytically ; he guides it in identifying, i.e., 
in working synthetically ; he continues this method of educa- 
tion until an analytic (and synthetic) habit of mind is formed, 
and the pupil no longer needs the preparatory analysis and 
synthesis which it is the business of the teacher to supply. 

In perception, the stage of intellectual development nearest 
to sensation, the child is to be guided in the formation of clear 
and adequate percepts of the objects presented ; the presenta- 
tion and, therefore, the ^-presentation, becomes clearer with 
each repetition, and the dim and vague mental outline with 
which the child started, grows into clear and definite idea. So, 
if a pupil has been led to apprehend the relation of certain facts, 
and to think this relation again and again, the process fixes the 
thought in the mind, and gives increased power to deal with all 
similar relations. Similarly with all forms of reasoning, or dis- 
course. A pupil has difficulty with an abstract argument, say 
the solution of a problem ; he is aided by judicious questioning 
to comprehend the logical connection of the several steps in 
the solution ; he repeats the reasoning for himself, re-thinks 
the relations — and at last, not only is the reasoned truth per- 
manently retained, but there is also the beginning of a habit of 
logical reasoning. 

Illustration. — By means of objects, a child forms a first 
intuition of the number five ; one presentation will not suffice, 
even if the objects are so arranged as to facilitate the mental 
act. Herein, it may be observed, lies the source of many a sad 
mistake. A teacher knows that there must be "objective 
teaching " in giving first lessons in numbers, but falls into the 
common error of assuming that because there are concrete things 
before the child there is concrete knowledge in the child's mind ; 
he forgets that the first idea is vague, indefinite ; that the mind 



METHOD OF INTERROGATION. 1 97 

must act on the material, and frequently repeat the act ; that 
the child must be made to think from the vague to the well-de- 
fined — the ' concrete ;' and, that the mental processes ought to 
be aided by proper presentation of objects. For example, in 
teaching the number five, we do not begin with five dissimilar 
and unarranged objects ; this would be to commit two blun- 
ders. We begin with similar objects, symmetrically arranged, 

as thus : • • • 

• •• 

But even with this symmetrical number-form, one presenta- 
tion is not enough. On the basis of the several familiar forms, 
which the child has already learned, he must be questioned 
through dear perceptions into clear conceptions. Every presen- 
tation becomes clearer until there results a definite idea of the 
number five, through a conscious recognition of its relations to 
the lower numbers. Thus, in the foregoing number-form, 
the relations 5 = 4+1, 5-1 = 4, — i.e., by questioning, 5=4 
+ ?, 5 - 1 = ? — can be presented in five different (though 
related) ways. It seems plain that if the child, is led by clear 
intuitions to think the relations as presented in these number- 
forms, the " mental experiences " will blend into a lasting con- 
ception of the number. Similarly, from the same number-form 
can be presented various intuitions of the relations 5 = 3 + 2, 
5-3 = 2, i.e., by questioning, 5 = 3+?, 5-3=?; 5 = 2+3, 
5 = 2+?, etc., etc. (See chap, on teaching arithmetic). 

Again : A boy will not at first clearly apprehend so simple 
a proposition as " Things which are equal to the same thing 
are equal to one another," much less will he draw the right con- 
clusion from its application in a given case ; as e.g., the line 
AB is equal to the line CD, the line EF is also equal to CD, 
therefore, the lines are all equal to one another: which is not the 
immediate inference. From the conditions of a given arith- 
metical problem a pupil may discover the relations : 
The selling price = ^ of cost price. 
The selling price ^ ^y of cost price + $20 



198 METHOD OF INTERROGATION. 

And yet fail to see that the application of this axiom will at 
once give the answer. The pupil must be plied with many con- 
crete examples, and he will have to be questioned and cross-ques- 
tioned upon the principle and its applications, until he has ac- 
quired a clear apprehension of it, a working conception, which 
he can readily bring to bear in all cases in which it applies. 

Once more ; when a child has fairly learned the number six, 
he will not, at first, solve offhand such a question as : If 2 apples 
cost 4 cents what will 3 apples cost ? Much less will he be able 
to comprehend its solution by the " Rule of Three," since the 
general idea of ratio and the complex idea of the equality of 
ratios, are quite beyond his grasp. But he can be led to solve the 
problem by taking its two steps, one at a time. By clear intui- 
tions, he can be led first to perceive, and then to conceive that if 
2 apples cost 4 cents, one apple will cost 2 cents ; and then by 
similar means, to see that if one apple cost 2 cents, 3 apples will 
cost 6 cents : As, e.g. 

Apple • I • • cents 

Apple • ! • • cents 

therefore om apple costs 2 cents ; etc. Thus forming clear 
perceptions from a few examples, he will quickly rise to a con- 
ception of such relations, and soon be able to solve similar 
problems without the aid of visible objects. 

Relating Facts. — Not only is questioning the sure test of 
how the child's mind is dealing with the material, it is, as has 
been suggested, the best way to guide him in relating t/ie facts. 
Though it is chiefly the mechanical aspect of association that 
comes into play in the primary stage of instruction, the main 
object, even here, is mental discipline, and, therefore a rational 
spirit must pervade the teaching. There can be, of course, no 
severe demand made upon rational comprehension, because this 
is only in the beginning of its development ; bnt facts can be pre- 
sented in their proper relations -things can be associated by 



METHOD OF INTERROGATION. I99 

the law of similiarity. It is by the teachers preparatory ana- 
lysis of the subject and by his judicious questioning, that the 
child is brought to think implicitly, facts in their relations. He 
does not grasp explicitly the underlying unity of the facts ; but 
to some extent, related facts explain themselves (p. 83); and if 
this rationality of facts has been carefully kept in mind by the 
teacher during his Socratic lesson, there will be retention of the 
facts in their relations, unconscious appropriation of their 
rationality, which in good time will grow into conscious recogni- 
tion of their logical connection. 

Illustration. — If, for example, the facts of six have been 
presented in clear intuitions J J J there will be a gradual, but 
sure growth of clear perceptions into a conscious thinking 
of the relations between 1 and 6, 2 and 6, etc.; 6 is 6 times 1, 1 
is one-sixth of 6 ; 6 is three times 2 ; 2 is one-third of 6, etc. 
Having learned thus much, he passes,easily (first by intuition, 
of course) to the new facts : 6 + 2 = 8 = 4 times 2, 2 is one- 
fourth of 8, and so on, to 5 times 2, 6 times 2, etc. So, too, 6 
= two times 3 ; 9 = 6 + 3 = three times 3, 3 = one-third of 9, 
and so on. That is, from the right presentation of objects, 
the child forms clear perceptions which almost unconsciously 
grow into a firm grasp of the relations of numbers in the Multi- 
plication Table ; and thus, learning how to construct the table 
for himself, he is not left to memorize it by merely mechan- 
ical associations. There must be repetition, of course ; the 
table must be so thoroughly memorized that any pair of factors 
instantly suggests the right product But, if there are a few 
repetitions of the acts of apprehension by which the several pro- 
ducts are formed, the task of mastering the table will be im- 
mensely lighter than if left to the symbol-memory alone. 

Use and Abuse of Drill. — It is clear from the foregoing 
considerations that Repetition, Drill, is necessary, for there is and 
must be a mechanical side to education. Drill is necessary for 



200 METHOD OF INTERROGATION. 

the formation of right habits, for the acquisition of skill in certain 
work in the primary stage of instruction, for the accumulation of 
the right experiences and the consequent development of mental 
and moral power in all stages ; but there is a point at which 
drill — -repetition, ceases to be of any value for the growth of 
knowledge, or skill, or capacity, and becomes positively harm- 
ful. Unintelligent repetition cannot strengthen intelligence, 
ceaseless questioning on unimportant details, monotonous re- 
callings of mere sensuous associations, " thorough grinds " on 
what is already well known — destroy interest, which, as we have 
seen, is essential to attention, and so induce a habit of mind- 
wandering, the greatest foe that the educator has to confront. 
In primary schools, perhaps in all grades of schools, incal- 
culable time is wasted in a repulsive monotony of drills. Dealing 
with the concrete as if the concrete were all in all — as if " from 
the concrete to the abstract " means to begin, continue and end 
with the concrete, is to ignore the fact that abstract thinking 
is the only true thinking, that the concrete is only means to 
end, and that so far as it delays the power to grasp the abstract, 
it defeats its end, hinders rather than helps psychical develop- 
ment. 

The re-action against an imperfect method of instruction has 
led to the other extreme which is equally imperfect Formerly 
children were rarely allowed to begin with the concrete. Now, 
the tendency is to keep them from rising higher than the con- 
crete. It is, possibly, owing to this reign of the visible and 
tangible that so many teachers are deficient in power of abstrac- 
tion and analysis. The trained mind of a trainer of minds 
surely ought to be able to see the fallacy in the inference, some 
As are not B's, the? ef ore, some It's are not As, .J; out the 
necessity of resorting to a concrete case, as, e.g., some living 
things are not men, therefore, some men are not living things. 

More than once we have found the majority of a large class 
hesitate to answer the question, What is the A of the B 



METHOD OF INTERROGATION. 201 

whose A is Cf Before answering, most of them had to think 
of a particular case, as, e.g., what is the length of a pole whose 
length is ten feet ? The power of abstract thinking may be taken 
as the measure of intellectual development. 

It ought perhaps to be mentioned that there is not unfre- 
quently, excessive drill through a teacher's ability " to inter- 
est his class." But the thing is, not simply are the pupils inter- 
ested, but are they interested in the main thought of the lesson ? 
When pupils have been drilled on a lesson to the fatigue-point, 
or to the monotony-point, the teacher arouses the flagging atten- 
tion by introducing an interesting " story," or illustration, in 
which the thought of the lesson is supposed to be repeated, 
and thus " more drill " secured. But the real interest is in 
the illustration and not in the thought it is supposed to illus- 
trate. Children have been " drilled," say on the number two, 
ringing changes on one and one? nothing and two? two less one? 
two less two ? till under the monotonous repetition interest and 
attention die out ; but the teacher is for more drill, and so 
interesting stories, of which the heroes are two mice, or two 
cats, or two dogs, or two elephants, or two deinotheria. Un- 
doubtedly there is interest, but it is not in the two ; it is in the 
mice, or the cats, or the elephants, or the deinotheria, and so 
there is no attention to the thought of the lesson, but amuse- 
ment or excitement in the story. That sort of spurious 
attention is often seen even in advanced classes. College 
students sometimes miss the chief points of a lesson in chem- 
istry through the brilliancy and variety of the experiments. It 
is possible to talk interestingly to a class without either con- 
veying much information or developing much power— just as 
"A. Ward, the American humorist," interested many an intel- 
ligent audience by his lecture on The Babes in the Wood, 
while giving but little information about the " Babes." 

Sense of Proportion.— In the right use of drill, there- 
fore, the teacher should arrange his questions so as to have 



202 METHOD OF INTERROGATION. 

and to give due Sense of Proportion, i.e., so as to repeat the 

great principles, leading thoughts, rather than subordinate de- 
tails. By the majority of teachers this important point is lost 
sight of. In questioning, they make no distinction between the 
important and the unimportant, between the trivial points and 
prominent facts and their relations. Lessons in reading, geo- 
graphy, history, are treated as if their value depended on the 
number of questions that can be asked upon them. The 
child is questioned and re-questioned and cross-questioned, 
drilled a&d re-drilled to the very extreme of tediousness, some- 
times on a lesson that is of little value as a whole, and some- 
times on the equally unimportant details of a lesson in itself of 
value. Take the following interesting lesson : " The rat sat on 
a mat, the cat ran to the mat, the rat ran into the box." What 
are we to think of the model lesson that gives twenty-five or 
thirty questions on such stuff? Or, of the mental condition of 
the " six years darling of a pygmy size " that is ruthlessly sub- 
jected to such an ordeal ? What are we to think of a model 
lesson that gives three and a half pages of questions on seven 
and a half lines of an ordinary reading lesson ? Suppose a 
child were to be subjected to such a " drill " on every fairy tale 
he reads, or every interesting story or biography, how long 
before fairy tale and story would become an utter abomination 
to him ? Consider how a history lesson is ordinarily given ; 
note the infinitude of questions asked upon it, in utter dis- 
regard of the due proportion between the essential and the 
non-essential. The inevitable result is that interest dies out, 
attention flags, and instead of assimilated knowledge and 
strengthened faculty, there is left a medley of vague notions 
and disconnected facts, whose only end is to be speedily for- 
gotten, or to be reproduced in preposterous answers to (per- 
haps) equally preposterous examination questions. By such 
excessive drill, the teacher makes himself a mere machine, and 
turns out mechanisms after his own likeness. 



METHOD OF INTERROGATION. 2 03 

3. To Extend, or Enlarge Knowledge. — By questioning, 
vague ideas may be made definite, misapprehensions removed, 
and new knowledge imparted. It is a common maxim that 
nothing is to be told the learner that he is able to make out for 
himself. What he acquires by the exercise of his own powers 
will remain with him in more enlarged or more accurate 
knowledge, or at least in increased power of apperception. Of 
course, Telling, Explanation, and clear Exposition, are often 
needed. For, while it may be true that it is not so much what 
goes into a boy as what comes out of him that educates, it is 
equally true that nothing can be got out of him unless some- 
thing is first put into him. It is almost a common-place that 
" Telling is not teaching." The truth of this depends on the 
mental attitude of the taught, and this again, depends chiefly 
on the kind of telling and the spirit and ability of the teller. 

Telling; Questioning. — Telling the right thing at the 
right time and in the right way, is teaching. Very often time 
is worse than wasted in a futile attempt to question out of a 
pupil what has never been questioned into him, and what he 
cannot by any possibility evolve from his " inner consciousness." 
It is one of the best characteristics of a good teacher that he 
knows exactly when and what to tell, as well as when and what 
to impart or to elicit by questioning. The " telling not teach- 
ing" maxim is thoroughly sound as a protest against the method 
of continuous lecturing. It is easy to lecture ; it is difficult to 
teach ; thus, many instructors are good lecturers but not good 
teachers. With clearness of thought and fluency of speech, they 
seem to expect that lucid exposition on the part of the teacher 
will prove an effective substitute for attention and self-activity on 
the part of the pupil. The lecturing method, the pouring in 
process, may have its place in the college lecture-room — though 
even there a little Socratic questioning now and then seems 
desirable — but the method is nearly worthless in the primary 
and the secondary school. The object lesson, the exposition, 



204 METHOD OF INTERROGATION. 

the demonstration, can be interpreted and assimilated only by 
what is already within the mind. This assimilating process — it 
cannot be too often repeated — is solely the learner's act and can 
never be dispensed with by even the most logical arrangement 
and lucid exposition on the part of teacher or text-book. But, 
as we have seen, the teacher may aid the learner's effort by pres- 
enting the new matter in its proper relations, and may lead him 
by questioning to see the old knowledge in clearer light, and to 
make for himself the mental connection between the new and 
the old. 

Vague made Definite. — It has been said that the first ideas got 
by a child — no matter by what process of instruction — are neces- 
sarily hazy ; his mental growth is from the vague to the definite 
by analysis and synthesis, either conscious or unconscious. 
And as these mental functions are undeveloped in the young 
learner, it is the business of the teacher to guide the learner's 
mind into analytic and synthetic working. Thus the vague is 
made definite, misapprehensions are corrected, and old know- 
ledge is both clarified and enlarged by new growths of material 
with which it is rationally connected. If a pupil, by an erro- 
neous answer, shows that he has not clearly grasped a thought, 
we do not forthwith tell him the correct answer. Guided by a 
few thoughtful questions he is made to discover the error and 
to think out the correct answer for himself. 

Socratic Questioning. — The truth of his wrong answer 
assumed, he is led by Socratic questioning to a reductio 
ad absurdum ; he then re-examines the argument ; he dis- 
covers where the fallacy lies, whether in the premises, or in 
the conclusion ; he makes the needed corrections ; and thus, 
as an active co-worker in the process, he is sure to retain 
somewhat of real value, both in knowledge and mental dis- 
cipline. The teacher must guard against the mistake of think- 
ing that because he is using objects in teaching, the child's 



MEtHOD Ofr iNTERkoGAtlott. 20$ 

ideas cannot be hazy, and that clear talking will suffice. No 
matter how well a lesson may be given, no matter how skil- 
fully the maxim " from concrete to abstract " may be applied, 
the careful teacher well knows that there are some points 
which are not clear to the learner ; that, though there is a con- 
crete object before the mind there is not concrete knowledge in the 
mind, and he will endeavour, by well prepared and connected 
questions, to make the knowledge broader and more definite. 

Illustrations. — A pupil may have learned the definition 
of a straight line, for example, and repeated it again and again, 
and yet have a very inadequate idea of it. He has been told 
that a line has not breadth but " position only," yet he will re- 
tain a lurking suspicion that a thing which he has drawn from 
A to B, which he sees before his eyes, which he can blot 
out and replace, etc., must have some breadth. Besides, is he 
not distinctly told in Euclid I, ix, to describe an equilateral 
triangle on the side of DE (a line) " remote from A? " If he 
thinks at all, he is somewhat perplexed by this " remote " side. 

An examiner testing a class on this proposition and suspecting that some 
of the class had but crude ideas of "straight line," " remote side, " etc., 
put a few questions : Has DE, then, two sides ? It has. On which side is 
the equilateral triangle to be described ? // is to be described on the side re- 
mote from A. If one side of DE is remote from A, what may you say about 
the other 'side? // is near or next to A. Then, how much further from 
A is the remote side than the near side? // depends on the width of the line! 
This was the answer of an eager but perfectly sincere member of the class, 
and two or three others were quite ready to agree with him. It is not im- 
probable that scores of pupils who have crossed the " Pons " in triumph, 
have very misty notions concerning the meaning and reason of construction 
in this proposition. 

It is not, then, the mark of a cautious teacher to assume that 
even axioms and definitions are on their first presentation, clear 
to the minds of beginners. By examination and cross-examina- 
tion they are to be guided in thinking till their vague outlines 
become clear and adequate conceptions. Many a beginner in 



206 METltOD Of iNTERkOGATIOtf. 

geometry has very vague notions of the definitions and axioms 
that fall so glibly from his lips. Some have been known to 
affirm that when three lines AD, BD, CD meet in D, only two 
angles are formed ; others have stoutly maintained that if the 
angle A D B be taken away, only the line CD will remain. Not 
a few imagine for a long time that the base of a triangle is 
necessarily the horizontal side, — the side parallel to the bot- 
tom of the page — , and are not a little perplexed on finding that 
another side (any side) may be the base, as in e. g. the figure 
of Euclid I, vi. A little thoughtful questioning would give 
pupils clearer ideas of triangle, base, vertical angle, " the other 
two sides," etc. The teacher cannot be too often reminded that 
the object before the mind does not ensure concrete knowledge; 
that first ideas are necessarily vague, that objects are used to 
aid teacher and pupil in making knowledge concrete. 

Further Illustrations. — It may, therefore, be laid down 
as a safe rule that all imperfect mental products should be cor- 
rected by the pupil himself with a minimum of help from the 
teacher. Ideas obscure at first, remain obscure unless 
there is a growth into clearness by exercise of the mental 
functions by which they were apprehended, and by which they 
may be at once extended and defined. A pupil may have been 
taught the parts of speech, and the doctrine of grammatical 
equivalency ; he will have to apply his knowledge many times 
before he apprehends it in its fullness. He must himself cor- 
rect his imperfect thinkings on a given topic till he reaches 
perfect thought. Take the sentence " The charge is too trifling 
to be confuted, and deserves to be mentioned only that it may 
be despised : " 

A pupil may have had a good deal of drilling on the parts of 
speech, and yet fail to see the force of " only " in this sentence. 
He will probably parse it as an " adverb " modifying men- 
tioned, because that is the nearest verb. He should be led by 
questioning to correct his thinking till he reaches the truth : 



METHOD OF INTERROGATION. iOj 

What is only ? It is an adverb modifying mentioned. What does only 
mean ? It means this one thing and nothing more. But does the speaker 
mean that the charge deserves to be only mentioned, i.e., that the bare men- 
tion of it would lead to its being despised ? No, that is not the meaning. 
If that were the meaning where should only be placed ? It should be placed 
before the verb mentioned. Well, what is only ? It is an adverb modifying 
despised. Is the meaning, then, that the charge should be despised and 
nothing more ? That is not the meaning. Omitting only, what hare we ? 
The charge deserves to be mentioned that it may be despised. Does the charge 
deserve to be mentioned ? // does. For what reason, or purpose ? That it 
may be despised. Is there any other reason? There is no other reason. 
How do you learn that? From the word "only." Then what is the part 
of only in the sentence ? It affects the meaning of the clause, " That it may 
be despised." 

Again, a pupil is asked to parse but in the line : " The 
paths of glory lead but to the grave." Reflecting for a moment, 
he concludes that but here is equivalant to only, and is probably 
an adverb, that adverbs modify verbs, and but, therefore, 
modifies the verb lead. Now, the careless teacher will pro- 
nounce the answer wrong, give the correction, and pass on 
without further concern, and his " teaching," for any lasting 
effect it can have on the minds of the learners, might as well be 
addressed to the idle winds. But a few questions will enable 
the pupil to correct his own errors, and not only does he firmly 
hold what he has thought out for himself, he has also increased 
mental power in the act of thinking. 

For example : "But means only, and is an adverb modifying lead." 
Well, what does only mean ? It means this one thing, and no other. Does 
the poet mean, then, that the paths lead and only, that is, do nothing 
more than lead to the grave? That is not his meaning. Well, leave 

out but, and what results. The paths lead whither f The paths 

of glory lead to the grave. Consider whether there is any other term- 
ination ? There is no other destination. How do you gather this from the 
line ? We gather it from the word ' ' but, " Then, what word or words does 
but affect? // affects the meaning of the words, "to the grave." And, 
grammatically, what is the phrase to the grave ? It is an adverbial phrase 
modifying leads; etc 



iOO METHOD OF INTERROGATION. 

An Example from Arithmetic — Owing to imperfect 
teaching many pupils who have " gone over " square measure 
have but misty notions of what is really done in finding the 
area of a rectangle. Propose to a class e. g, to find the area of 
a rectangle 5 ft long by 3 ft. wide, and ask a few questions on 
the work and its result : 

What answer have you got? Fifteen feet. Does that answer 
need any correction? Yes, it should be fifteen square feet. 
How has the answer been obtained ? By multiplying 5 feet, 
the length, by 3, the breadth. What quantity does 5 represent? 
// represents 5 linear feet. Many of the class will give this an- 
swer, for the word length is prominent in the " rule," and by repe- 
tition of the rule, their minds have become possessed by the idea 
of length. Now, the thoughtless teacher, on getting such an 
answer, will simply give the correct answer and pass on to 
something else, and so the pupils who gave the wrong answer 
have done no thinking in this correction of errors -have apper- 
ceived nothing — and of course will retain nothing. The care- 
ful teacher, by a few Socratic questions, will lead the erring 
minds to make the corrections for themselves. He gets them 
to recall the ideas that multiplication is only a short way of 
doing addition where all the addends are equal, that the multi- 
plier as representing simply how many addends there are, is an 
"abstract" number, etc. He draws a figure on the board 
representing the rectangle whose area is to be found, performs 
the usual operation using say 5 for multiplicand, and 3 for 
multiplier. Then : 

What quantity does this 5 represent ? Five linear feet. What 
has been done with this ? // has been multiplied by three. What 
is the result? Fifteen " linear "feet, say some. No, fifteen 
square feet, say others who having the trusty eye on the 
15 square feet are determined to stick to the right conclusion 
in spite of their false premises. The teacher shows these close 
observers that it is not permitted to play such fantastics 



Method of interrogation. 2ot) 

tricks with quantities — that having started with linear feet in the 
operation, with linear feet they must end. What have we 
done ? Multiplied jT linear feet by J, thus, 5x3 = 15. Can the 
result be got in another way ? Yes, by addition, taking j three 
times as an addend, thus jft. +5ft. +5ft. = lj/t. Does this oper- 
ation work any change on the quantity which 5 represents ? // 
makes no change. Then what is the sum of sets + cts + 5cts ? 
Fifteen cents. And of 5 linear ft. + 5 linear tt. + 5 linear ft. 
Fifteen linear feet. But what is the area ? Fifteen square feet. 
And so, by a few similar questions, they are led to see that the 
5 of the multiplicand represents not 5 linear units making up 
the line A B, say, but the five square feet making up the first 
jf the three equal rectangles which form the given rectangle. 

Imparting new Knowledge. — By questioning not only is 
tne vague made definite and misconceptions corrected, but also 
new knowledge is acquired and assimilated with the old. By the 
principles of the synthetic method (p. 173) ideas are connected 
into groups, and these groups are used to interpret and assimi- 
late new groups. Old knowledge is to be brought into vital 
connection with new facts ; and this vital union at the same 
time gives meaning to the new and strengthens and enlarges 
the old- To this end the analytic-synthetic method is employed 
under the form of interrogation ; in all stages of learning the 
pupil should be trained in self-activity, i.e., in self-education. 
Even in primary reading, for example, he has to do something 
for himself. Given the sounds of a few letters to start with, the 
pupil can almost independently discover the sounds of many 
others. 

Having been taught to give sounds of & and /, and to form the 
word at, he may discover the sounds of b, c, f, h, etc. For in- 
stance, the picture of a cat is before him and he pronounces the 
word cat ; the word is then written on the board ; the pupil 
recognizes the familiar part at, and recalls its sound ; he dis- 
criminates the forms of at and cat, and their sounds, and 
o 



2IO METHOD OF INTERROGATION. 

thus, with a few repetitions, gains a definite idea of the sound 
of c, as well as power to produce it ; and so on, with other 
letters, b, /, h, m, etc., as illustrated in the chapter on phonic 
reading. When he has learned to pronounce the three-letter 
words, of which at forms a part, he will quickly learn to pro 
nounce when written, and to write when pronounced, all the new 
words which can be formed with the letters now familiar to 
him ; as, e.g., pronounce cab, can, etc., and he will write them, 
or point them out on chart, etc.; or write sap, man, etc., and he 
will pronounce them. In all this, questioning directs him in 
identifying and discovering. 

, Even in the simple matter of naming numbers, the pupil's self- 
activity may be engaged ; for example, he is taught that the 
number made up of 3 and 10 (3 + 10) is named thirteen (three- 
teen), and of 4 and ten, fourteen. Then, name the number com- 
posed of 5 and 10 ? 6 and 10 ? etc. What then, does teen mean ? 
And, similarly, a number composed of two tens is named 
twenty (twain-ty = two-ty), of three tens, thirty ( = three-ty) : 
name, then, the number made up of 4 tens ? of 5 tens ? 
etc What then does ty mean ? So, in notation, when a pupil 
has learned through intuitive teaching, the relation between the 
tens and the units, and also the significance of the symbols o, 1, 2, 
3, etc., it is only necessary to tell him that one ten and no units 
is represented by 10, to enable him to infer the notation of (a) 
two tens and no units, three tens and no units, etc.; (b) one ten 
and one unit, one ten and two units, etc.; (c) two tens and one 
unit, two tens and two units, etc (See chapter on Teaching 
Arithmetic) 

Illustrations. — (1) We give a few examples from actual 
work in the school-room. 

When taught primary arithmetic by the intuitive method — 
especially from the graphic number-forms— the child, very early 
in his course, gains the idea of division 0/ a number iiUo eqw^i 



METHOD OF INTERROGATION. 211 

parts, which is, of course, the fundamental idea of fractions. 
And by first using whole numbers in applying this idea, he will 
have no great difficulty in mastering the principles and rules of 
the Arithmetic of Fractions For exampk : 
Divide 2, 4, 6, 8, etc., by 2 ? 
" 3, 6, 9, 12, etc., by 3 ? 
" 4, 8, 12, 16, etc., by 4? 
etc., etc. 
Now take the half of 2, 4, 6, etc. ? 
" third of 3, 6, 9, etc. ? 
" " fourth of 4, 8, 12, etc. ? 

Here, to enable him to pass from the old to the new, it will 
be only necessary to tell him that to divide a number by 2, is to 
take the half of it ; to divide a number by 3, is to take the 
third of it, etc, i.e., that there is a change of language but no 
change of idea. It may not, indeed, be always necessary to 
make even this explanation. For instance : 

An inspector was giving a lesson introductory to fractions, 
according to the foregoing plan. He found, at the beginning 
of the lesson, that the children did not know how to take the 
half, the third, etc., of a number. He put a series of questions 
in division, which all were able to answer : Divide 6 by 3 ? 
9 by 3? 12 by 3? etc. And then, without any explanation, 
asked a bright little fellow: what is the third of 6? After a 
moment's thought the child replied two; and then answered 
without the slightest hesitation, the questions : one-third of 9 ? 
one-third of 12? etc., and one-fourth of 4? of 8? of 12? etc 
The other members of the class soon caught the clew, and an- 
swered similar questions with equal readiness. The inspector 
then asked the leader in this process of discovery and identifi- 
cation : How did you find out what I meant by the question, 
what is one-third oi 6? He replied, "There are three two 's in 
six, and I thought you meant one of them." 

At the end of the lesson, the class were able to answer such 
questions as these : How do you find the half of a number? 



212 - METHOD OF INTERROGATION. 

The third ? The fourth ? The n-th ? How many halvei 

has a number ? How many thirds ? How many fourths 

how many »-ths ? What is one-third of 6 ? taw-thirds ? three- 
thirds ? What is <?/z<?-fourth of 8 ? taw-fourths ? /#r<?<f-fourths ? 
/fr^r-fourths ? <?#<?-third of a number is 4, what is the number ? 
<9«<?-fourth of a number is 5, what is the number? etc., etc. 
And the brighter ones of the class answered such questions as 
the following : ^zew-thirds of a number is 6, what is the num- 
ber ? Three-ioxxiCas of a number is 9, what is the number ? etc. 

(2.) Solution of Problems-— An array loses 10 per cent, of its num- 
bers in its first battle, and 10 per cent, of the remainder in the second battle, 
and then had 16,200 men left ; how many men composed the army at first ? 

What part of a number is 10 per cent of it ? One-tenth. 
One-tenth of the army is lost, what part remains ? Nine-tenths 
of it. One-tenth of this remainder is lost what part of it re- 
mains? Nine-tenths of it What part of the whole army now 
remains ? 

A of A or fifo. 

If 81 hundredths of the army = 16,200 men, what is one- 
hundredth ? 200 men. 

Then what number in the entire army ? 

100 times 200 men i. e„ 20,000 men. 

I sold a horse so as to gain 10 per cent.; had the horse cost $36 more, 
there would have been, at the same selling price, a loss of 10 per cent. 
Find the actual cost of the horse. 

How many cost prices are mentioned ? 
Two, the actual cost price, and a supposed cost. 
What is the difference between these ? $36. 
How many selling prices ? One selling price. 
What part of a number is 10 per cent, of it ? One-tenth. 
What relation between the selling price and the actual cost ? 
Selling price = rh actual cost. 



METHOD OF INTERROGATION. 213 

And also between selling price and supposed cost ? 

Selling price = ^ supposed cost. 
What inference from these relations ? No answer. 
Well if A = B I „., . ■ , . 

and A = C f Whatmference? 
Answer, B = C. 

State the axiom by which this is inferred ? 
Things which are equal to the same thing are equal to each other. 
Then, what inference from the relations between the two 
cost prices ? 

& of supposed cost = ^ actual cost 
Therefore ? 

Supposed cost =H + to = V = if of actual cost 
From this, what is the difference between the two costs ? 

The difference is % of actual cost. 
Complete the solution ? 
The difference is given = $36. 

.'.% actual cost = $36, *• = $18, and entire cost $162. 
(3.) Algebraic Example, Socratic Questioning— In the expression 

«V + b*c 7 + c 2 a 3 . What letters are involved ? a,b,c. How are they 
involved ? They are involved symmetrically. Taking the square root of 
each term separately, what do you get? ab + bc+ca. Is this result the 
square root of the given expression ? It is not. Iiioxa,b,c, I substitute re- 
spectively d,e,f, or p,q,r, or x,y,z, etc., will it make any difference in your 
argument? It will make no difference. If for a,b,c, there be substituted 
a + b, b+e, c+a, or p-q, r-s, t-u, will your answer still be valid? // 
will. When any quantities are substituted for a,b,c, does your argument 
still hold ? It does. Is the expression : 

(x -y? (y - z? + (y- zf (z - x)» +(z- x)' (x -y)\ 
similar to the given expression? It is ; for a,b,c have been substituted re- 
spectively x-y, y-z, z-x. Now, taking the square root of each term 
separately, what do you get ? 

(x-y) (y-z) + (y-z) (z-x) + (z-x) (x-y). 
Compare the result with ab + be + ca. They are, of course, similarly formed. 
Is ab + bc + ea the square root of a*b 3 + etc.? It is not. Then is (x-y) 
(y - z) + etc. the square root of (r - ;•)• (j< - 2)* + etc.? It is not. 
But, said the teacher, It is the square root of it. 



214 METHOD OF INTERROGATION. 

At this declaration the class were greatly astonished. What was wrong 
in the reasoning ? Their curiosity was thoroughly aroused. They ex- 
amined the reasoning again and again ; there was a general marshalling of 
all the ideas bearing on the matter, there was in a word, some close thinking 
done, before the fallacy was discovered. It would have been hard to con- 
vince that class, that Mathematical reasoning "condemns to a minimum of 
thought ; " that it is impossible to err in mathematical reasoning " because 
mathematical principles are self-evident, and the successive steps of the 
reasoning are equally self-evident." 

(4.) Socratic Questioning, Positive— The following is an example of 
the positive extension of knowledge by questioning. A class had been led 
to discover the two rational factors of 

a* + b 3 + c z -$abc, 
and were now to apply the result to the resolution of certain similar forms, 
The teacher told nothing. 

What about the symmetry of this question ? It is symmetrical in + a, + b. 
+c. What is its linear factor ? a + 6 + c. Its quadratic factor ? 

a % + b 2 + c a - ab - be — ca, 
which can be put into the form %. [{a - b) 2 +(b- c) 2 + (c -af\. Now let us 
consider the expression : 

a > + b i -c s +sabe (i). 

With respect to what quantities is this symmetrical ? No correct answer. 
How may this be derived from the expression already factored ? No correct 
answer. The teacher then proceeded to give a few questions leading up to 
the unanswered question. 

How may a + c be got from a + b? 

A few answer correctly, others incorrectly. 

What shall we do with a + b in order to get a? 

Take away + b. 

What shall we do with a to get a+ct 

Add + c. 

Then how is a + b changed into a + c ? 

By taking away +b and adding +c, that is by substituting + c for + b. 

How shall a + b be changed into a - b ? 

By substituting - b for + b. 

How shall a* + b 3 be changed into «2»-^ 3 ? 

By substituting - b for + b. 

Now what is the relation of form (i) to the primitive form? 

// is derived from the primitive by substituting -c f&r+c. 

State, then, how form (i) differs from the primitive? 

Ii differs only in having —c for +c. 



METHOD OF INTERROGATION. 215 

Well, we proved certain facts in the primitive form, what can you infer 
as to the corresponding facts in form (1)? 

They can be got from the facts of the primitive by substituting —c for +c. 

Then what is the linear factor in form (1) ? 

a+b-c. 

The quadratic factor ? 

a* + b* + c* — ab+bc + ca, etc. 

How may other forms similar to form (1) be derived from the primitive '! 

By substituting— b for +b we get a second form, and by substituting - a 
for + a we get a third form. 

Give the factors of these two forms ? 

For the first case we have : 

a — b \ c and a* + b 2 + c 2 +■ ab + bc—ca. 

And for the second case : 

-a+b+c and a 2 +b 3 +c 7 + ab- bc + ca. 

Can you suggest how other forms may be derived from the primitive ? 

For +b and + c, substitute —b and —c respectively. 

What is the result? 

a 9 - b* - <* - yibc. The factors? a-b-c and a + b 2 + c* + ab-bc + ca. 

May other forms like this be derived from the primitive ? 

Yes, by substituting for + c +a, and again for +a + b. 

And so at the conclusion of the lesson — which lasted about 20 minutes 
— the class were able, without a moment's hesitation, to write down the 
six derived forms and their pairs of factors. 

4. To Cultivate Power of Expression ; Effect o?i Apperception 
and Retention. — As intimated, this purpose of questioning per- 
tains equally to the Testing of Retention and the Training of 
Apperception. In fact, it is on account of the powerful effect 
which the cultivation of expression has upon the funda- 
mental processes of mind, that it is given a separate place 
among our Purposes of Questioning. The thought is : because 
words and the right use of words are necessary to both Apper- 
ception and Retention, therefore, the training of the language- 
power ought to be a prominent aim in all instruction 

Belittling "Words. — In the re-action against mere rote- 
learning, there is a strong tendency to belittle words. " Words, 
words, empty words, teach tilings not words," is the cry. Doubt- 
less the old plan was wrong, the plan of filling the memory with 



2l6 METHOD OF INTERROGATION. 

words and making little or no appeal to the intelligence. The 
plan is very old, as old as education itself ; for it is an easy plan, 
easy for the pupil, easy for the teacher. The mind of childhood 
as we have seen, is exceedingly open to sensuous associations : it 
can memorize words by connecting their successive sounds, with 
but little attention to their meaning. But it is the work of the 
teacher to check, or to rather properly direct this tendency. 
He must see, indeed, that the child does not simply form a 
series of auditory sensations ; but equally it js4ris duty to see that 
this ready receptivity of the senses shall be employed in form- 
ing connections of ideas. How is this to be done ? Not by 
teaching words alone, nor things alone, but by teaching 
words and things, by making ideas of things clear and definite 
and this by fixing and defining them in words. While, therefore, 
the teacher must be on his guard against teaching empty words, 
he must be equally on his guard against imparting empty ideas ; 
for if the word without the idea is empty, the idea without the 
word is little better than an airy nothing without a local habi- 
tation and a name. 

Relation of Words and Ideas to Knowledge.— 
" The learner's knowledge," says an English writer, " consists 
in ideas gained from objects and facts by his own powers, and 
consciously possessed — not in words. The words without the 
ideas are not knowledge to him." This is but a partial truth. 
The learner's knowledge, if it is worthy of the name, if it is part 
of an organized structure, if its up-building has had any effect in 
organizing faculty, does not consist only in such ideas. It con- 
sists in such ideas made clearer, made more definite, made more 
comprehensive, and finally made incarnate in words. It is quite 
true that if a child were to memorize a series of words by 
merely connecting their sound-sensations, making the connec- 
tions absolutely without reference to meaning, the words would 
not be knowledge to him. But it is equally certain that with- 
out words, or symbols of some sort, he would not be able to 



METHOD OF INTERROGATION. 21 7 

weld his sense-impressions into definite and permanent forms, 
and that such wordless mental experiences would not be 
knowledge in any true sense of the word. The truth appears 
to be that neither ideas alone (if there are such things that are 
of any worth) nor words alone, constitute knowledge, but ideas 
embodied in words ; and that this act of embodiment is a factor 
in the finished thought, and is an essential part of the process of 
organizing mental faculty by organizing knowledge. Let the 
teacher remember that, even in the primary stage, " to learn 
the name of a thing, and to learn how to use this name, in- 
volves much more mental action than is required in forming 
sense-peceptions about it." 

Words and Clear Thinking.— Words, then, are not 
only the instruments for the expression of thought, they are also 
the instruments of the thinking process itself, Human speech 
is the complement of human reason, the gift without which 
reason would not be, and could not be what it is. Words 
are at once the test and the condition of the cultivation of rea- 
son, that is, there can be no thinking — deserving of the name 

without words, and no explicit proof that the thinking process 
is going on, unless its products are objectified in words. For the 
teacher, at least, the only proof of thinking on the part of the pu- 
pil, is expression, oral and written; and of clear thinking, is clear 
expression, oral and written. Definite thought means definite 
expression. Vague expression means equally vague thought. 
No act of thinking is complete till its products 
have been set forth in words. And the manner in which 
this is done marks the character of the thinking and the effec- 
tiveness of the teaching. 

Thought Lessons are Language Lessons.— It fol- 
lows that every lesson should be a lesson in language. It 
should be a lesson in language because it is a lesson in thought, 
and only so far as it is a language lesson is it an effective 



2l8 METHOD OF INTERROGATION. 

thought lesson. Every lesson, in all stages of learning, is given 
to awaken the self-activity of the child, to cause thinking. It is 
only by questioning that we can determine the matter and manner 
of his thinking ; it is only by questioning that we can determine 
whether the final step in the thinking process has been taken, 
since this step is the act of expression itself. If we are giving 
a simple object-lesson for the exercise of perception, we know 
that the child has got the idea, and completed his act of think- 
ing, when he has the right word for the idea, and can use it 
properly and promptly. If we give a lesson which demands the 
thinking of relations we know that the act of thought has been 
performed when it is expressed in definite propositions. So, 
in all the stages of intellectual development, the character of the 
mental product is shown in the character of the expression 
which we are able to elicit by the Socratic art. 

We have already seen that clear Apprehension is necessary to 
Retention, and that clear expression is necessary to clear appre- 
hension. The teacher must insist on ready and accurate utter- 
ance of the thoughts the lesson is intended to convey. If a pupil 
is unable to express the results of his thinking in any lesson, the 
teacher may be sure that they have not taken definite shape in 
his mind. The teacher must not be deceived by the earnest 
plea, " I know, but I cannot tell." This means nothing except, 
perhaps, that the mind is vaguely conscious of working towards 
more clearly defined thoughts. The thought-elements, mental 
nebulse, are there, but the unifying and discriminating laws of 
Intelligence are to act still further, before distinct and finished 
forms appear. Let the thing be clearly seen, says Horace, and 
the willing words will follow. 

Interaction between Thought and Expression. — 

From the relation between thought and language it may be laid 
down as a sound principle that direct and clear expression is 
preceded by clear thinking, and that the effort to speak with di- 



METHOD OF INTERROGATION. 219 

rectness and precision reacts on the thinking process and con- 
tributes to clearness of thought. A maxim akin to that con- 
cerning Doing and Knowing finds place here. As knowing 
aids doing (page 182) and doing re-acts on knowing, so think- 
ing aids speaking, and speaking re-acts on thinking. A man — 
much less a child hardly knows what his thought really is, till 
he has given form to it, i.e., till he has clothed it in spoken 
or in written words. Everyone knows how thought grows in 
clearness with each attempt to clothe it in words. 

The trained master of thought and speech clothes his 
thoughts at once in perfect language ; the word-embodied 
thought is a pure mental product, and it comes forth, whether 
in oral or in written speech, a thing of strength and beauty. 
But the immature mind of the learner is far below such power 
of thought and speech. A thought, as it first appears in his 
mind, is vague, and, in its expressed form, it bears the marks of 
this vagueness. But it is now before him in audible and in 
visible form ;, this objectified thought is something that he can, 
as it were, study as an object. Guided by the judicious ques- 
tioning of his teacher, and aided by the visible (or audible) 
form before him, he turns the thought over and over in his 
mind, each successive mental act being aided by the verbal ex- 
pression of the preceding one — till at last the thought, as well 
as the expression of it, is as perfect as he can make it. The 
undoubted educational procedure, therefore, is : First the 
Thought, then the Oral Expression of the thought, 
then the Written Expression of it. Thus the inter- 
action between thought and expression will finally result in the 
best expression of the best thought possible to the mind in its 
presumed stage of growth. 

Questioning Best for Language. — From what has 
been said, the value of Interrogation as compared with continu- 
ous Explanation is manifest A prevailing fault in primary and 



220 METHOD OF INTERROGATION. 

secondary schools is that the teacher talks too much and the 
pupil too little. It is easier for the teacher to think and talk 
than to get his pupils to think and talk. And it is a common 
error to suppose that clear thinking and expression on the part 
of the teacher, ensure clear thought and ability to express 
the thought, on the part of the pupil. But only the pupil's 
self-activity educates, and speech, oral and written, is a neces- 
sary condition of self-activity. The value of any lesson may 
be determined, therefore, by the amount of correct expression 
that it has called forth, and by this alone. A lesson in which 
the teacher has done all the talking is nearly worthless. A les- 
son during which the class have been questioned into clear and 
direct expression, and which ends with reducing to written 
forms the best that has been thought and said, is of permanent 
value, because it enlarges knowledge and strengthens and de- 
velops faculty. 

Course to be followed. — What course, then, does the 
wise teacher follow ? As far as possible, in all stages of learn- 
ing, he makes every lesson a lesson in correct expression. By 
clear and correct language in his explanations and suggestions, 
and by clearly and definitely expressed questions, he stimulates 
the pupil to a similar clearness and distinctness of thought and 
speech. At the beginning of the lesson he has the pupils cor- 
rectly express the groups of ideas bearing upon the subject- 
matter of the new lesson. In every imperfect sentence he sees 
the outward form of imperfect thought, and with an apt sug- 
gestion or a brief but lucid explanation, he questions the class 
into clear and well-defined thought clothed in chosen words. 
He detects at once where mere verbal memory is at work in 
rule or formula, or reproduced expression, and questions and 
cross-questions the reciter till his empty words are filled with 
solid and connected thoughts. Point by point he presents his 
matter logically arranged to suit the pupil's stage of develop- 
ment, and questions into a clear comprehension and a clear 



METHOD OF INTERROGATION. 221 

expression of the several parts. Concluding the lesson, he 
insists on a connected summary, and what was grasped and 
expressed in isolated sentences, is now reproduced in connected 
form ; the ease and accuracy with which this is done being the 
test and measure of the thoroughness of the instruction and of 
its value in discipline. Finally, since it is impossible with large 
classes to give the necessary time to each member for the 
training of expression, he finds occasion as soon as possible after 
the lesson, for the written reproduction in improved form of 
all that had been thought and said. 

If such a course as this is followed— and it can be followed 
in all stages, from the primary class that studies a lesson in a 
mere picture, to the advanced class that studies an im- 
portant point in the philosophy of history, there will not be 
much need of desultory language lessons, and there will be un- 
doubted growth of organized capacities and of organized 
knowledge. 

Illustrations. — The rule to be followed is : in all classes, 
from the lowest primaiy to thehighest class, no thought without 
expression. If a child has had a lesson in which an idea has 
been developed, as that of an angle, or of the color violet, or 
of weight, the idea has not been clearly grasped, the lesson is 
incomplete, unless the word and the idea are so closely asso- 
ciated that the one instantly recalls the other. If an easy 
thought has been acquired, as that a cube has six faces, the 
prompt oral and written expression of the thought is the proof 
of the value of the lesson. If by the use of objects and practical 
examples, the facts about the number four have been taught and 
learned, there must be facility in expressing the facts, and ability 
to use them in making and rightly expressing applied exam- 
ples ; as e. g. three and one are four, four less one is three, 
etc.; Charlie has four cents, if he gives Susie one, and spends 
one for a pencil, how many has he left ? Suppose a lesson on 
the text, 



2 22 METHOD OF INTERROGATION. 

Politeness is to do and say 
The kindest thing in the kindest way : 
The children are led to a fair appreciation of this by an appeal 
to experiences, perhaps incidents of the school-room or of the 
play -ground ; the kind thing done in the kind way, the kind 
thing said in the kind way, are illustrated in the concrete— -the 
value of the lesson depends on the exact oral or written expres- 
sion of what has been developed. A class has been led to 
discover certain facts about water ; water is a fluid, presses 
equally in all directions, expands under certain circumstances, 
etc. ; the lesson is not complete till the fragmentary thoughts 
and expressions have been woven into connected oral and 
written form. 

From a primary lesson given on an angle, to a lesson on an 
ode of. Horace or a chorus of Aeschylus — wherever any in- 
struction is given to strengthen the intellect or touch the heart, 
the end is truly reached only when all that can be expressed is 
reproduced in strong and beautiful speech. 

More than half the value of classical study in the schools is 
lost through inattention to this imperative law : Train power 
and skill through proper expression. Too often teachers are 
satisfied with the crude fragments of speech — disjecta membra — 
which are the product of the baldest construing. We have 
known students to express surprise that Demosthenes is consid- 
ered the greatest of orators ; they had done much construing, 
had done much of the author's work into a kind of English ; his 
thoughts but dimly seen, were hustled into the first clumsy garb 
that offered from their meagre vocabulary; they had never 
rendered a solitary paragraph from the majestic Greek into 
the equally majestic English. What is the worth of such train- 
ing either for enlarging knowledge or developing power? 

Thus, too, many a student has read Horace, if we may be 
pardoned the perversion of language, without ever having 
caught a note of his lyric music To such unfortunates, even if 



METHOD OF INTERROGATION. 223 

the intellect fairly grasped the meaning of what they had read, 

the words of Byron may well be applied : 

It is a curse 
To understand, not feel, his lyric flow, 
To comprehend, yet never love, his verse. 

Of course there must be grammatical construing ; by fragments 
of thought and language, students must be questioned till the 
meaning is fairly apprehended; but we need not begin, continue 
and end in vague thoughts, and scrappy sentences. Take the 

lines of Horace 

Nequicquam deus abscidit 
Prudens Oceano dissociabili 
Terras, etc. 

The thought is clear, the grammar is simple ; there could not well 
be an easier piece of construing. Where then is the value of the 
lesson ? It consists in rendering the thought into the best Eng- 
lish possible by the combined efforts of teacher and learner. If, 
patching together the fragments with which he began, the stu- 
dent ends with " the prudent god has cut off lands in vain by 
the unsociable sea," the lesson is all but worthless. But the 
work may be made of lasting value, if he be questioned and 
cross-questioned on the poetic adequacy of different words, till 
by the united effort of master and scholar, something approach- 
ing Conington's fine lines is reached : 

Heaven's high providence in vain 
Has severed countries with the estranging main. 



Method of interrogation. 

CHAPTER X. 

Method of Interrogation. — Continued. 

Having studied the purposes of Questioning as concerned 
with the Testing of Retention, we shall now consider such 
purposes as more immediately relate to the Training of Ap- 
perception. 

(b) Training of Apperception : Preparation of 
Mind. 

Since the two processes are correlative, much of what has 
been said, under the first division of the subject, applies with 
equal force to the training of apperception, which we shall, there- 
fore, study more briefly. The purposes to be studied under this 
head are : (i) To Excite Interest; (2) To Arouse Attention; 
(3) To Direct Attention ; (4) To Cultivate the Habit of Self- 
Questioning. 

1. To Excite Interest. — We have seen (page 164) that in- 
struction must be based on the interest of the pupil. This prin- 
ciple is co-extensive with the whole of education. What the 
mind is interested in it will attend to, i.e., it will exercise 
its activity upon it ; what the mind is not interested in, has for 
it practically no existence. There may be interest in the men- 
tal activity itself, in the object upon which it works, in 
the end which it is desired to reach, and interest may be ex- 
cited through personal or rational motives. All instruction 
is an appeal to some activity, and if this activity is free and 
unimpeded, it is naturally pleasureable. In the child, mental 
movement is as spontaneous as physical movement, and under 
right conditions, both ought to be equally a source of delight. 
It is the function of the teacher to appeal to these spontaneous 
activities so as to increase rather than diminish the pleasure 



METHOD OF INTERROGATION. 22$ 

naturally arising from them. We may briefly consider how this 
free activity may be properly controlled and stimulated. 

Clear Presentation, and Interest. — In the first place: by 
well-arranged and connected questions the matter may be pre- 
sented to the pupil's mind in a way best suited to his capacities 
and attainments. In the course of questioning, the teacher is 
in continuous contact with the child's mind, and, therefore, he is 
less likely to present either too difficult or too easy stimulus. 
Questioned on properly arranged matter, the learner is led to 
make acquisitions for himself. His progress is one of invention 
and discovery ; his curiosity is kept on the alert ; he unexpect- 
edly perceives the old in the new, he identifies ; — what was dim 
and obscure to him he gradually works into a luminous thought, 
he discriminates ; he pursues, in short, a method of investig- 
ation differing only in degree from that of the greatest thinkers 
and discoverers in philosophy and science, and feels the tonic 
thrill of healthful mental life. Thus, there is produced the 
self-activity which disposes to more strenuous effort, and de- 
velops se'.f-reliance and a spirit of investigation. 

The Clear Teacher. — On the importance of clear teaching we 
may quote from Arthur Sedgwick's admirable lecture on 
" Stimulus : " 

For making boys think as opposed to merely cramming them, though 
there may be higher qualities, there are few more important than clearness. 
It may seem at first sight as if it was easy to be clear in teaching ; in fact 
there are few things that want more constant attention, and even prepara- 
tion. To make his own words precise and clear-cut ; to put complicated 
things in lucid order and simple language : to search out for the point and 
emphasize that duly : to avoid formulae as much as may be, and constantly 
to formulate afresh when the boys begin to use words by rote ; when there 
are difficulties, to shew exactly where the difficulties are : to lead on con- 
fused answers till the confusion, and the exact point of the confusion, be- 
come apparent : to cross-question neatly and succintly half knowledge, so 
as at once to expose its incompleteness and supply the deficiency ; to define 
exactly in a muddled head what is the particular tangle that has caused the 
P 



226 METHOD OF INTERROGATION. 

muddle : these are some of the marks of the really clear teacher, and such 
clearness is excessively stimulating. 

Sense Of Power, and Interest. — In the second place : The 
clear presentation of material properly arranged for the learner's 
stage of intellectual growth, helps to develop this sense of power, 
of ability to grapple with difficulties which is one of the most 
potent allies of the teacher (p. 1 16). In this consists one of the 
best results ot the Socratic art. Where there is much lecturing 
by the teacher, there is little real thinking by the pupil. He 
comes to feel that he is a mere spectator in a work in which 
the lecturer is the all-important factor. But, attacking difficult- 
ies as presented in thoughtful questions, he masters them one 
by one, and each successful effort brings a glow of satisfaction 
and a sense of growing power. Inspire a boy with confidence 
in his ability to do a thing, and the thing is already half done ; 
all his energies will be aroused to action ; all his ideas bearing 
on the subject will be brought to the front, and used by the 
quickened mind in assimilating the new material. To know 
when to tell, and when not to tell, to evoke the maximum of 
energy with the minimum of telling, is the mark of a teacher as 
compared with a mere expositor. There is, in general, too much 
talking by the teacher, and too little talking and thinking by the 
learner. This is, no doubt, partly due to defective teaching ; 
many teachers have neither the literary nor professional training 
to enable them to make the best of very imperfect conditions. 
But, it is also partly due to popular ignorance of the nature of 
education, which demands of the teacher more than he can 
possibly accomplish, and almost forces him to follow the exposi- 
tory method in the vain hope that what is clearly explained 
will be learned with the best educative results. 

Time a Factor in Culture.— It is forgotten that time is a necessary 
factor in education which is an organic growth, the growing organism being 
a living soul in union with a growing body. And so, from a spirit of false 
economy, a double burden is imposed on the teacher. In proof of this, con- 



METHOD OF INTERROGATION. 227 

sider the number of pupils a single teacher is expected to " educate ;" the 
number of branches, disciplinary and practical, he is supposed to handle as 
educating instruments ; the high ideal he is expected to keep before him, 
and the short time allotted him to achieve his great work. Consider the 
swarms of little children that are usually found in "Primary Divisions," 
where, if our psychology is correct, is required to be done the most 
important part of the great work of education, the part that will tell 
with greatest effect on the welfare of the community. It is no won- 
der that even the earnest and able teacher, in presence of such a task 
and such conditions, is almost driven to substitute his own self-activity 
for that of the pupil, to do the thinking and talking that ought to be done 
by the pupil himself in the process of self-education. It is, perhaps, vain 
to hope that the multitudinous writers and speakers who are so ready with 
their nostrums for the " improvement of the teachers and the schools," may 
devote a portion of their energies to the removing of certain disabilities 
which make impossible the task now assigned to the teacher. And the 
watch-word of the first campaign in behalf of needed reforms, might well 
be: for the primary divisions, double the time and half the numbers. For 
the higher grades, double the time or half the subjects, — or better still, double 
the time AND half the subjects. 

Law of Self-Education.— The teacher, then, is to use 
only needed explanation, and to have the pupil do as much as 
possible for himself. He is not to be too ready with his aid ; 
he is to develop the sense of power which contributes so much 
to awaken interest. Happily this source of interest can be 
drawn upon in all stages of instruction. Every teacher has seen 
the flush of pleasure on the face of the little child who has suc- 
ceeded in doing what had threatened to baffle him. It may be 
the articulation of a single sound, or the making of a letter, or 
the drawing of a straight line ; it may be the combination of 
known letters into a new word, or the production of the written 
form of a spoken word, or the discovery that nine is three 
times three ; in every ease there is a challenge to effort, and in 
every success, the thrill of conscious power. With but little 
telling, and much wise questioning, a class can be led to a fair 
mastery of the fundamental rules of. arithmetic, and, then with 
less telling, and less questioning, they will master for them- 



228 METHOD OF iNTERfcOGATlOtf. 

selves, fractions and all the so-called rules of that much-abused 
science. And this is true of all the rational subjects of the 
school curricula. A teacher who explains much, who antici- 
pates every difficulty, and trusts nothing to the learner's in- 
dependent investigation, is shorn ol more than half his power. 
This is the tendency of things to-day. There is too much 
coddling demanded by indulgent parents; the teacher is ex- 
pected to do everything for the pupil, who is to do little or 
nothing for himself. Against this tendency, the able and 
faithful teacher must be on his guard ; he must arouse and 
deepen interest by developing conscious power. The boy must 
educate himself. 

Sympathy, and Interest. — In the third place : It has 
been seen again and again that sympathy (pp. 113, 120) and 
interest are great mental forces in the work of educating. Where 
there is sympathy there is interest, with all that flows from it. 
Sympathy is the most potent force in the moral world. Sym- 
pathy is in the world of mind what gravitation is in the world of 
matter ; by the one is maintained unity among the systems of 
worlds, by the other is secured the spiritual unity of humanity. 
In the school-room it is the greatest of forces. To teach well, 
the teacher must get very near to the child ; the strong must 
put itself into vital contact with the weak; " to become a 
teacher of children you must become a child." This relation 
between teacher and taught, can be created by sympathy, 
and by sympathy alone. For, it is impossible to get near 
a child, to win his affection and his confidence, without know- 
ing him, without a clear insight into the workings of his mind 
and heart. And this is the gift of sympathy. The seventh 
beatitude of the Divine Teacher is as sound in philosphy as it 
is deep in spiritual significance : " Blessed are the pure in Heart 
for they shall see God ; " that is, Blessed are the loving, the 
sympathetic in heart, for they shall see things unseen by other 
<eyes- 



. METHOD OF INTERROGATION. 229 

A man that has but little sympathy can never be a teacher in 
the best sense of the word ; lacking the gift of insight, he is 
but a blind guide ; he may be a hearer of recitations, an ex- 
positor of subjects, a martinet of discipline, an enforcer of 
spurious attention, a prince of rule and routine, but he has no 
power to touch the heart, and through the heart, to fashion mind 
into a form of blended strength and beauty. On the other hand, 
there is not a more beautiful sight than strong brain and 
kindly heart working on the plastic mind of childhood. It is hard 
to get implicit trust from children, but it is won through sym- 
pathy. In the general management of the school its presence 
is felt; but especially in lesson-giving, by the interrogative 
method, does the master's sympathy reveal itself and win the 
interest of his pupils. He feels with them, he knows that 
such feelings are theirs; for he projects his mind into theirs; 
he is interested in the subject of instruction for their sakes ; 
and they become interested in it for his sake ; he questions 
their minds into a communion with his, till the strong "sympa- 
thy of love unites their thoughts." 

Mind to Mind. — The true teacher always knows when his 
mind is out of contact with the minds of his children ; he has at 
first, perhaps, pitched his questions too high or too low ; he has 
failed to excite interest because he has failed to create the neces- 
sary relation between their old mental experience and the new. 
But he soon corrects his error ; the sympathetic mind is keen to 
perceive and fertile in resources : he quickly touches the respon- 
sive chord, and he feels, and the children feel, that teacher and 
taught are one in thought and aim. There is perhaps no greater 
blessedness than such an experience ; the teacher knows that 
the bond of sympathy has been formed through which alone 
true educating power can pass. Through it, he becomes a 
child in heart without losing — rather increasing — his manly 
strength of intellect. He moves down from his superior plane 
©f learning and power ; step by step he comes, till he reaches 



23O METHOD OF INTERROGATION. 

the lowly plane where children stand, and with a portion of that 
divine enthusiasm for child-humanity which marked the Divine 
Man, he draws them into a vital union with his strong heart 
and intellect. It is not irreverence to say that in the presence of 
such a teacher, the little ones press forward to touch the hem of 
his garment, and that with every touch there goes forth a quick- 
ening and transforming virtue of which the effects are as lasting 
as the soul itself. - 

Now, while the entire atmosphere of the school is one of sym- 
pathy, and thus influences the general school life, it is in actual 
teaching, especially by the Method of Interrogation, that it works 
with personal power. There is a focussing, so to speak, of the 
forces of sympathy, just as there is a concentration of the inel- 
lectual activity in attention ; in fact, the latter depends, in no 
small degree, upon the former. Under this condition effective 
teaching is possible. The teacher has an insight into every 
mind ; he adapts his questioning to its needs, and arouses it to 
normal action ; and breathless interest and brightening eye, 
prove that his labour is not in vain. 

Arousing the Dull. — The questioning by which the 
teacher reveals himself to his pupils, and by which he forms and 
maintains a strong bond of sympathy with them, has the effect 
of animating even the dull members of the class into some sem- 
blance of life. This interest begins through class sympathy — 
sympathy of numbers, and is deepened by the teacher's interest 
mall. (Page 120). The teacher possessed of genuine sympathy, 
feels a special interest in those who learn with difficulty ; it is the 
heavy-laden ones whom he likes to encourage and to strengthen 
for the burden. The measure of the teacher's power is his 
ability to arouse the dull. Clever pupils will learn, even if the 
matter is imperfectly presented, and the teacher shows but little 
enthusiasm, but those of average ability, and especially the " slow 
of heart," can be aroused only by the touch of a master hand 
to the highest mental activity of which they are capable. Now, 



METHOD OF IRTERROGATION. 23 1 

by the animated and judicious questions of the teacher, the 
interest of the whole class is deepened. The bright pupils are 
^ull of enthusiasm, those of moderate ability are on the alert, and 
ihe slow cannot escape the quickening influence. Mind acts 
on mind, enthusiasm begets enthusiasm, interest is born of 
interest, until the weakest members of the class share in a cer- 
tain newness of life. 

Nor does the teacher in his questioning fail to put questions 
suitable to the dull boys ; there is something within their grasp, 
and he leads them to feel this, and under the vitalizing impulse, 
even the dullest put forth unwonted energy, and the teacher 
has the surest proof of his success in the progress of those whom 
he had perhaps deemed incapable of learning. It often happens, 
indeed, that a child that had been all but stupid in one branch 
of study, develops a remarkable aptitude in another; as when 
a student who has not taste or ability for science, discloses 
special aptitude for language, and vice versa ; or, occasionally 
one who is non-mathematical, shows a talent for literature. 

Personality, and interest. — In the fourth place : Sym- 
pathy, we have seen, reveals itself and calls forth the sympathy 
of pupils, through questioning. The lectwer stands afar off; he 
may excite admiration, but he cannot create the strong bond of 
sympathy which is the work of admiration and gratitude, and 
which is essential in all true education. But the sympathetic 
questioner works his way into the hearts of children. He is 
able to descend from his superior heights. With the clearer 
insight that comes from human sympathy, he has constantly 
before him the intricate points with which the child is 
wrestling, and affectionately aids the struggling mind into 
clearer light. And so, the child feeling again and again, the 
thrill that comes from conquest of difficulty, turns with blended 
feelings of gratitude and reverence to his inspiring leader. In 
this way is created a vital relation between the learner and the 
teacher, and everything that the one shows a deep interest in, 
becomes a source of interest to the other. 



232 METHOD OF INTERROGATION. 

Sympathy united with enthusiasm constitutes a powerful 
personality. More than anything else, it is this personality 
that makes the successful teacher. Learning and method will 
be of little worth unless there is interest, enthusiasm in the 
work, for this alone can arouse the interest and stimulate the 
powers of the child. The fundamental principle is that person- 
ality communicates itself, that there is developed in the pupil 
the same state of intellectual and moral consciousness that 
marks the teacher. If a subject has no interest for a teacher 
it can have no interest for the taught; but sympathy, 
strengthened by enthusiasm will make the irksome, or even the 
repellant, attractive. Such a teacher, pursuing his calling under 
favourable circumstances, posseses all but unlimited power in the 
great work of mental and moral development. He takes the 
boys captive at his will ; he makes an attractive subject still 
more attractive ; he invests the indifferent with newly discov- 
ered charms ; he reveals an element of beauty even in what was 
dry and harsh ; in a word, he makes the pupil love what he 
himself loves, and hate what he hates ; for a part of his own 
brain-power and heart-power, goes out in every lesson. He 
organizes faculty, capacity, tendency, almost at his discretion 
The despiser of classics becomes an enthusiastic student of 
Homer and Virgil ; the hater of mathematics takes to geometry 
and the calculus ; and the unimaginative plodder becomes 
saturated with love for the beauty and strength of Milton and 
Shakespeare. 

Method of Personality.— No mechanical methods can 
possibly be a substitute for this personality. It is the power 
that ensures clearness, force, and permanent effect to all les on- 
giving; and especially is it this that moulds the character of 
the pupil. More than knowledge, it imparts love of knowledge 
and ability to acquire it ; more than mere information about 
right and wrong, it forms character, which shows itself in a spon- 
taneous and unswerving loyalty to conscience (page 154). 



METHOD OF INTERROGATION. 233 

In the interminable discussions about "methods," therefore, it 
should be remembered that the true method for the Educator, 
is not to be found among the scores of ways, plans, devices, 
methods, that are so often enumerated : it is the Method of Per- 
sonality. Erudition, knowledge of mind and normal method, 
• have their place, a high place. But the highest place must be 
given to Personality. It is almost impossible to over-rate the in- 
fluence of a strong personality. The most permanent influences 
history has known, or perhaps will know, may be traced to its 
forming and transforming power. It operates in the schoolroom, 
with far-reaching influence, because the teacher loves and re- 
spects infinitely the nature of the child, and comprehends the laws 
of its development. Too much reliance on methods as methods, 
makes education mechanical — dull, deadening, benumbin°- 
destructive of vitality in both teacher and pupil. This is due 
largely to an immense exaggeration of the mechanical power of 
the teacher and its substitution for vital power. Give the 
pupil's mind a chance — do not destroy or enfeeble it by puttino- 
in place of it a machine which you yourself have modelled. 
Personality, not method, is the only power to produce per- 
sonality; method based on recognition of personality — both 
formally and in its contents, — gives the mesmeric energy of 
the true teacher. In this informing spirit, sympathy united with 
enthusiasm, is the greatest factor. Great thoughts come from 
the heart; and, says John Morley, this is the truth that shines 
out as we watch the voyagings of humanity from the " wide, 
grey, lampless depths " of time. Those have been greatest in 
thought who have been best endowed with faith, hope, sym- 
pathy, and the spirit of effort. 

2. To Arouse Attention. — The value of questioning in securing 
attention — i.e., the exercise of mind-power — has been already 
referred to (page 37). A question is a challenge to attention ; 
a series of logical questions secures continuity of attention and 
consequent unity of thought. If there is to be any true learn- 



234 METHOD OF INTERROGATION. 

ing — any true relation — between the mind and the object-mat 
ter, there must be attention — not counterfeit attention, but the 
positive exercise of mental energy. Questioning is the only 
means by which we can know that such attention is maintained. 
For what is this effective activity of attention, or what does it 
imply? It implies (page 61) the existence in the mind of 
ideas and groups of ideas essentially related to the new presen 
tations ; it implies that these groups — forming an apperceiving 
capacity in the learner's mind — shall be brought to the front, 
made fresh and active, full of vitality, in order that the new 
and related groups may be so grafted upon them that an 
organic growth takes place. 

In the early stages of learning this can be secured by 
questioning and by questioning alone. If the teacher simply 
explains, he is in the dark as to how the mind of the pupil is 
dealing with the explanations. There is no real attention, no 
creating of relations between connected points, unless the mind 
collects its forces in order to move from point to point in 
discovering relations. The teacher, then, having first clearly 
thought out what previous knowledge is necessary to enable 
the child to understand the lesson, calls up that knowledge 
by judicious questioning, gives it unity, freshness, vividness ; 
in a word, puts the studeat's mind in a comprehending, attitude 
and then, by a similar course of judicious interrogation, assists 
it in forming the inner relations between the matter of the new 
lesson and the freshened knowledge of the old. 

Illustration. — If, for example, a master is going to give a 
first lesson on compound addition, he asks himself what is the 
relation between the new rule and the rules the pupil has al- 
ready learned ? What ideas must be clear and fresh in the child's 
mind that he may firmly grasp the connection, i.e., recognize in 
the (apparently) new the familar features of the old ? What are 
the resemblances, what the differences? The only differene of 



METHOD OF INTERROGATION. 235 

course, is in the mode of notation — a fixed ratio in the simple, 
a varying ratio in the compound rule. He calls up in the 
learner's mind the old ideas that are related to the new rule, e.g., 
that : (1) ten units make one ten, ten tens make one hundred, 
etc.; (2) in adding a column of units the tens of the aggregate 
are carried to the tens' column, and the units are placed under 
the units' column ; (3) in doing this we in effect divide the sum 
of the units by ten in order to find the number of tens to be 
carried; as, e.g., when the aggregate of the units' column is 57, 
and we consider this as 5 tens and 7 units, we really divide 57 
by 10 ; etc. Thus, by recalling vividly to the learner's mind 
all the facts which are common to the two rules, the points of 
difference are seen to involve no new principle and are easily 
apprehended — the new is recognized as simply a modified form 
of the old. 

So, in beginning fractions,, a child is led to group certain ideas about the 
idea of division of a whole number into equal farts, e.g., that a number has 
two halves, three thirds, four fourths, etc. ; that one of its halves is equal 
to two of its fourths, equal to four of its eighths, etc. ; that three of a 
number's fourths is equal to one-fourth of three times the number, etc. 

This grouping of ideas of interpretation is a necessity in all 
learning; It is the application of the old maxim, Pass from 
the known to the unknown. There must be preparatory mental 
adjustment, the known must be revivified, must be made ready, 
then there follows the process of attention, of making right con- 
nections, till the goal of the unknown is reached and found to 
be the known made larger and clearer. 

In an ordinary reading lesson, for example, the child usually first reads 
over the lesson to get a "general idea" of its meaning. This serves as a 
centre of gravitation, it may be said, around which gather other ideas 
that come from further study and teaching. In other words, though this 
general idea may be vague, it is his starting point, it is what he will use 
when he goes over the lesson again, in acquiring a clearer idea of the whole 
by getting clearer ideas of its parts. And thus the process goes on till the 
whole is thoroughly assimilated. 



236 METHOD OF INTERROGATION. 

3. To Direct Attention. — Concentration of mind upon any 
subject implies not only preparatory adjustment of attention 
but also a movement in discovering relations of identity and 
difference (pp. 63, et seq.) After the initial act of attention, 
the stretching out of the mind with its prepared groups of ideas 
towards new matter, what follows ? There begins the movement 
towards a definite end, a process of defining and enlarging, 
discriminating and unifying. In the exercise of these essential 
functions of mind, the learner must be directed by questioning. 
His untrained mind cannot make the right preparatory adjust- 
ment of ideas, much less can it seize upon resemblances, notice 
differences and discover the law of connection which compre- 
hends variety in unity. He is overwhelmed by the mass of 
materials that confront him. No matter how well the topic may 
be presented by text-book or lecturer, his immature powers 
cannot make the needed analysis, exclude the irrelevant, seize 
upon the salient points, and form the right connections. Thus, 
the teacher must make the required analysis, logically arrange 
the material, and skilfully question the learner in the line of 
related ideas till he has clearly discerned the relations. This 
work goes on from day to day, gradually forming a habit of 
noticing identities and differences, of forming essential con- 
nections, and ultimately developing a power of analysis and 
synthesis which leaves the learner largely independent of the 
teacher. 

Whatever may be the subject matter of a lesson, there is an 
orderly way of presenting it, which tends to form the habit of 
concentrated attention, of clear and consecutive thought. 

Illustrations. — If a lesson is to be given in arithmetic, say 
on the Least Common Multiple, the teacher will keep clearly 
before him the central truths, that the Least Common Multiple 
of several numbers must contain all the different factors found in 
the several numbers, and each of these in the highest power in 



METHOD Of INTERROGATION. 23? 

Which it occurs. He will not at first, of course, state the facts 
in this abstract form ; but they will guide him in questioning 
the class through concrete examples up to a clear conception of 
the principle. For the Least Common Multiple of 6 and 8, e.g., 
he proceeds somewhat as follows : 

The factors of 6 ? 2 and 3. 

What, then, must any muliple of 6 contain ? 

All the factors of 6 viz. 2 and 3, i.e., 3 • 2 (i). 

The factors of 8 ? 

Three two's, i.e., 2 • 2 • 2. 

What therefore must any multiple of 8 contain ? 

All the factors of 8, viz., 2 • 2 • 2 (2). 

What then must a common multiple of 6 and 8 contain ? 

// must contain the factors (1) and (2). 

Will not taking the factors (2) suffice ? 

No, because a product of two's cannot contain 3, which is a factor in (i). 

Well, taking the factors (2) and the factor 3, what results ? 

The result is 2 • 2 • 2 • 3 (3). 

Is it not necessary to take also the other factor of 6, viz. 2 ? 
No, for 2 is contained in the j actors already used. 

A different series of questions may, of course, be asked ; the foregoing 
simply illustrates the principle under consideration, viz., that attention must 
be directed by a series of connected questions starting from some basic 
principle. 

Again : Take the famous fifth proposition of Euclid, I., (the 
Pons) : if a bo)' of common ability fails to master this proposi- 
tion, it is because of poor teaching. As every one knows, the 
fourth proposition is really the essential part of the " Bridge," 
and if this is thoroughly mastered, whence should difficulty 
arise ? Question the boy into a thorough understanding of the 
fourth proposition, and the key of Euclid is in his hands. He 
will hardly stumble, much less fail, when he attacks the fifth. 

In teaching the Pons, then, there is first of all, preparatory adjusting 
of attention: the boy is tested upon his knowledge ot the fourth pro- 
position ; his knowledge must be practical, i.e., capable of ready applica- 
tion to easy cases ; a few easy exercises leading up to the pons, are given, 
etc Then there is a directing of attention : there is first of all attention to 



238 METHOD OF INTERROGATION. 

the enunciation, general and particular ; next, to the construction ; then to 
the demonstration in three parts, viz. : — part fiist, in which the equality 
of the two "larger" triangles is proved ; then part second, in which the 
equality of the two triangles on the base is proved ; lastly, part third, in 
which the results of the first and second parts are used, and the conclusion 
formally inferred. That is, the whole argument is subdivided, analyzed, 
and clearly presented in its several stages. With such a direction of 
attention by means of the well arranged questions, the boy's mastery of 
this famous proposition is assured. 

This Directing Attention is of universal application. In a 
common reading lesson, in a simple poem, in a gem of litera- 
ture, in a chapter of history, etc., there must be some unity, a 
grouping of ideas upon some principle, movement towards some 
end. And this unity must be apprehended and presented in 
the true spririt of the Socratic Art.* 

4. To Cultivate Habits of Self- Questioning — The goal of 
attention is ability to grasp large wholes in one act, and to give 
at the same time, distinctness to the parts. This goal is reached 
through systematic exercise of the related processes of identi- 
fying and discriminating, that is, by the exercise of the mind's 
analytic and synthetic functions, which are best trained through 
the Method of Interrogation. The questioning which con- 
stantly appeals to the mind's native tendency to notice differ- 
ences and to detect resemblances, must cultivate the habit of 
self-questioning, which may be considered the test of the 
development of attention. It is plain that every series of such 
questions as have been described, goes to form or strengthen 
this habit. This thing that I perceive, what is it ? What are the 
points which connect it with anything I have hitherto perceived ? 
Wherein is it like, yet different from, other things that I have 
known? These facts that are before me — what relation have 
they? These relations — are they comprehended in a wider 
law ? In this problem — what are the facts or conditions given? 
What is the thing sought ? Are any of these conditions irrele- 

* For examples in Literature etc, see Vol. on Detailed Methods of Teaching. 



METHOD OF INTERROGATION. 239 

vant ? What relations are explicitly given, what implictly ? 
Such a spirit of enquiry calls into exercise all the activities of 
attention, its adjusting, selecting, and relating powers — and 
ultimately brings the highest degree of intellectual energy which 
the student can attain. 

Clearly, this intellectual habit can be formed by logical questioning and by 
this alone. The pouring out processes whether by text-books, that copiously 
explain the easy and are silent on the difficult, or by teachers who with a 
fatal flow of words explain everything, works against independent investi- 
gation and the growth of power. The wordy teacher has been referred to ; ,the 
wordy annotator deserves a passing notice. He is more to be dreaded than 
the wordy teacher. The young learner will sometimes venture to question 
the scientific or literary accuracy of the oral instructor ; but he receives 
with unquestioning reverence the printed statements of the annotator. 

In the course of a long experience, we have rarely found a 
young student bold enough to question a statement made by 
an editor of an English or a Classical author. In the lines : 

" Yet e'en these bones from insult to protect, 
Some frail memorial still erected nigh, 
With uncouth rhymes and shapeless sculpture decked 
Implores, the passing tribute of a sigh." 

Scores of students have been known to declare that "yet is 
an adverb modifying implores," because some of the editors had 
so disposed of it, and both teachers and learners had accepted 
this "note" on the meaning of yet. Evidently, the famous Elegy 
had not been considered in its unity, nor had there been any 
" directing of attention " to its related parts. 

Take the well known lines of Horace : 



" Hunc, si, mobilium turba Quiritium,* 
Certat tergeminis tollere honoribus ;" 

It is safe to say that during the long reign of Anthon, thou- 
sands of students regarded honoribus as " a dat've, a Graecism 

*" This joys, if rabbles fickle as the wind 

Through triple grade of honours bid him rise." 



240 Method of interrogation. 

for ad honores." They had never once ventured to ask whether 
honoribus might be the other case, and the Graecism, a fiction. 
We remember the amazement of a certain class and the indig- 
nant protest of their master, at the bare suggestion that there 
might be no " Graecism " after all. The habit of self-question- 
ing, of independent thought, is not likely to be formed either 
by garrulous teachers, or verbose commentators. Study the 
author, shelve the annotator. 

II. Qualifications of the Questioner. 

We may roughly classify these under two heads, (a) Ac* 
quired Qualifications, and (b) Natural Endowments. Under 
(a) we shall consider a few of the qualifications that are indis- 
pensable in all good teaching : 

(1) Thorough Knowledge. — Clear teaching is necessary and 
to this, thorough knowledge of the subject of instruction is 
essential. What a teacher does not know he cannot teach ; 
what he does not know well, he cannot teach well. To know 
a subject well, it must be known in its relations to kindred 
subjects. A single, isolated fact, or principle, as we have seen, 
is not knowledge ; to become knowledge, to have any effect on 
intelligence, it must be grasped in its relations. It follows, then, 
that an instructor must know of a subject far more then he in- 
tends to teach. If, in mathematics, for example, he is ignorant 
of Algebra, he cannot teach Arithmetic so well as if he were a 
skilled Algebraist. If he knows only the four fundamental 
rules of Arithmetic, his teaching of these will not deserve the 
name of teaching. Indeed, since all knowledge is one, it may 
be truly said that the broader and more thorough a teacher's 
scholarship is, the better he will teach even the elements of 

knowledge. He will know his topic better, for he will see it in 
its relations ; he will know its several parts better ; he will be 
more fertile in illustration and all skilled devices of the teacher's 
art ; he will impart some educative value even to the simplest 



METHOD OF IRTERROGATION. 24I 

lessons. They are clearly wrong, therefore, who take the ground 
that the primary teacher need " know " only what he is going 
to teach. The primary teacher, it is sometimes argued, is to 
give the elements of reading, writing and numbers ; if he can 
read, write and cipher, he is qualified as an educator; the 
minimum of knowledge to be imparted fixes the maximum 
of knowledge for the teacher. If this view were acted upon, 
primary instruction would be of the most mechanical kind. 
The teacher is himself without interest in the subject which he 
feebly comprehends ; his own powers having never been called 
into vigorous action, how can he awaken interest and incite to 
vigorous effort? The truth of the matter is, that just because 
the primary subjects have in themselves but little culture- value, 
it is the more necessary that the teacher should have a liberal 
culture, as well as the power of insight into human nature. 
For, in this stage of development, above all others, it is the 
method rather than the matter, that is of greatest value. 

The beginnings of knowledge which we have studied in our 
psychology, are the beginnings of moral and intellectual life. 
" The child is to be trained towards the perfection of manhood 
his nature brought into fullest activity on all sides, and his 
powers developed in harmonius completeness, so far as time 
and circumstances permit." This view of primary work is not 
an ideal one which we may imagine but never hope to realize. 
The standard aimed at is easily within the reach of the earnest 
cultivated teacher ; it is far beyond the crude empiric whose fit- 
ness for the teacher's high vocation is an imperfect knowledge of 
the mechanical trivium, reading, writing and arithmetic. 

In the more advanced work, it is a truism that good knowledge 
is necessary to good teaching. The teacher must command 
the confidence of his class ; they must have respect for his 
character and admiration for his attainments. Thoroughly 
master of his subject, he moves along with conscious, yet un- 
pretentious power, and his boys look up to him as soldiers to 



1\± METHOD OF INTERROGATION. 

an able leader. Briefly, in all grades of teaching from the Kin- 
dergarten to the University, wherever there is to be true 
teaching, wherever power is to be developed and character 
formed, there ought to be broad and accurate knowledge and 
a good degree of general culture. Faculty is to be organized by 
clear presentation of organized knoivledge, and, therefore, the im- 
perative condition is : To organize faculty", the teacher 
must have organized knowledge. 

(2) Freparation of Lessons. — It follows that every lesson 
should be thoroughly prepared. However conversant a teacher 
may be with the subject-matter of a lesson, he will know it 
better for teaching purposes, if he makes special preparation. 
He may have gone over the thing again and again, but if he 
is about to teach it to a new class, it will have a fresh interest 
for him. A strong mind never moves twice in exactly the same 
groove ; and, therefore, the trite subjects as they are reviewed, 
will be broadened and freshened by increasing knowledge, 
while interest is still further deepened by the power of sym- 
pathy. Every teacher has felt the thrill that comes in teaching 
even a familiar topic, when he realizes that the humble ele- 
ments he is presenting have been seized by the mind of the child 
to the awakening of new life and strength. The teacher is 
before his pupils as the dispenser of wonderful revelations, and 
what to him is but the A, B, C, of knowledge, brings to them 
the joy of discovery and the sense of growing power. On the 
other hand, most teachers have had the disagreeable feeling 
that comes from half knowledge of a subject, or imperfect 
preparation of a lesson. A master imparts with lasting effect 
what he has thoroughly prepared ; what, from want of prepara- 
tion is only half knowledge, leads to feeble teaching. Instead 
of moving in conscious strength, he sees dimly, his step is 
feebly wavering, and keen eyes are quick to see that he is in a 
maze without a clue. To be ready in resource, to have fresh- 
ness of mind, to possess and to inspire confidence, to arouse 



METHOD OF INTERROGATION. 243 

and develop mind, the golden rule to be followed in all 
teaching, from a lesson on the cube to one on Differential 
Equations, is : Make Thorough Preparation of the 
Lesson. 

(3) Analytic Power. — The questioner must have a trained in- 
tellect; he should possess analytic power. " Present one thing 
at a time/' is one of the soundest of maxims. This implies 
that the object matter has been analyzed, the connection of 
the several parts observed, and that the one thing is presented 
at the right time, and at the right place in the series. If the 
teacher is not guided by the unity of the topic, if his questions 
have no thread of connection, how can his pupils apprehend 
even the " one thing at a time ? " Once more, the one thing, 
in order to have any meaning, must have a logical connection 
with something else. Disconnected questions are the product 
of a muddled brain. And if that is the state of things with 
the teacher, it is with the pupil confusion worse confounded. 
Teach one thing at a time, but teach it in its right connection, 
so that the pupil re-thinking the related things, in the end re- 
constructs the whole with which analysis began. Thus he will 
be gradually trained to the exercise of the highest functions of 
the intellect. The analytic habit of mind is, perhaps, three- 
fourths of the intellectual qualifications of the successful ques- 
tioner. A fruitful source of failure is the lack of logical method 
in teaching. Speaking generally, the untrained mind cannot be 
logical ; and the illogical mind cannot teach. The mechanical 
observance of mechanical methods cannot make him a teacher. 
His habits of confused explanation and jumbled questioning 
are incurable. Therefore, cultivate the Analytic and 
Synthetic habit of Mind. 

(4) Knowledge of Mind. — All our previous study goes to 
show that a knowledge of psychology is indispensable to the 
true educator. It is with the workings of a mind that the 
teacher has constantly to do. His method is good, his skill is 



244 Method of interrogation. 

great, only so far as they intelligently appeal to these mental 
processes and contribute to their highest results. He may have 
been crammed with pedagogical formulae, rules and devices* 
and methods and maxims, about " how to teach and how not 
to teach," but if he knows little or nothing of the laws, 
principles, and results of mental activity, his methods and 
his devices are likely to be only crude experiments, know- 
ing no law, or unity, or definite aim. The teacher, then, should 
know the laws of mind, and make all his expositions, all his 
questioning, tributary to its spontaneous activities ; he should 
ever realize that he is questioning a mind. The empiric is 
saturated with the idea that his great aim is to question about 
a subject ; for him, the mind exists for the " subject," not the 
subject for the mind. But the Artist, knowing the material he 
has to work upon, and familiar with the marvellous processes 
by which it grows and develops into the noblest thing on earth, 
subordinates method and all its instruments, to mind and its 
development. Let the teacher remember that in the exercise 
of his highest function he is a Questioner of Mind- 

(j) Practice in Questioning. — The reciprocal action be- 
tween knowing and doing has been frequently pointed out. Long 
and intelligent practice is necessary to skill in any art. Let the 
young teacher aim from the very beginning, at excellence in the 
Art of Questioning. In seeking the way to excellence let him 
remember : By doing alone, the way is endless : by knowing 
alone, the way is long; by Knowing and Doing the 
way is short and sure. 

(6) Personal Endowments. — Under this head but little need 
be added to what has already been advanced. It has been seen 
that personality is the vital element in the qualifications of the 
teacher. Energy, enthusiasm, decision of character, sympathy 
and the insight which comes from it, are the chief elements in a 
strong personality, and for this, no method, mechanical or 



METHOD OF INTERROGATION. 245 

rational, can be a substitute For, such a teacher, in no slight 
degree communicates himself. The mere tradesman, follow- 
ing with numb rigidity pedagogical rules whose meaning he has 
never grasped, drags his pupils through a dull and dreary rou- 
tine of unprofitable facts, touching the intellectual and moral 
nature only to their lasting injury. But the strong-brained, and 
strong-hearted teacher, who also is impressed with the worth of 
the human spirit, will, while developing the intelligence of his 
pupils, plant in them moral feeling, and the sense of a univer- 
sal love of man. Strong through patience, and hope, and faith, 
and sympathy, and the spirit of effort, he touches the intellect 
indeed, but touches also the moral and religious nature, inspires 
a reverence for the divine spirit of the Gospel, " which is 
operating with ever widening, humanizing, and enlightening 
influence on the destinies of mankind." 

He who would attain the transforming power of the ideal 
teacher may well keep in mind the decree which Frederick the 
Great, with all his un-orthodoxy, thought it wise to issue to his 
Prussian teachers : "As far as the work of the school is concerned, 
school-masters are earnestly reminded above everything to pre- 
pare themselves for teaching by heartfelt prayer for themselves, 
and ask from the Giver of all good gifts, wisdom, and patience, 
that their exertions and labors may be blessed. In particular 
they are to pray that the Lord would grant them a heart pater- 
naly inclined, and tempered with love and seriousness towards 
the children entrusted to them, that they may discharge the 
duties lying on them as teachers, willingly and without grudge, 
remembering that they can accomplish nothing, not even gain 
the hearts of the children, without the divine aid and Spirit of 
Jesus, the friend of children." 

III. Matter and Form of Questions. 

What is to be said under this head, also, follows necessarily 
from the purposes of questioning, and hence it will suffice to 



246 METHOD OF INTERROGATION. 

give a short summary of the characteristics of questioning as to 
Matter, Form and Mode. 

(a) As to the matter of Questions.— (1) We may 
notice the following characteristics : 

(1.) Definiteness.— Questions should be perfectly definite, i.e. 
unambiguous, precise, and corresponding to some assigned part 
of the subject. Some teachers ask unanswerable questions, i.e., 
questions which it is impossible to answer, or which could be 
answered in half a dozen ways. (page 167.) A definite 
question is given upon a definite portion of the subject matter, 
and in clear, terse and precise language. Both of these rules 
are too frequently violated. A few illustrations from "real life," 
may be given : 

Illustration. — "What occurred in Palestine after the destruction of 
Jerusalem ? " To answer that question would require on the part of the 
student an extraordinary gift of mind-reading. "If you place a over 
what does it mean ? " The teacher had in mind a way of representing 
division ; but, a boy would have been quite right in respectfully asking foi 
the meaning of " over," and " it." " What influence do you draw from the 
fact that water, in freezing, contracts till a certain temperature is reached, 
and then begins to expand?" " What sort of quantity is ai + aa-t-b 2 ?'' 
"In this poem, explain the devices of contrast and contiguity." And so on. 

A teacher in training was giving a twenty-minute trial lesson on "Part- 
nership." In starting to "develop" the idea of Partnership, he pro- 
ceeded as follows : 

" A man comes to the city to begin a certain business and finds that it will 
take $2,000 to start the business, but he has only $1,000, what will he do ? " 
No answer being given, the teacher said " surely some of you can answer," 
and repeated the question, stating the supposition and ending with "What 
will he do? " After another solemn pause, one boy said : " Please, sir, he 
would borrow a thousand dollars." This was a very good answer, but not 
the required answer. The teacher was plainly taken aback, but said : "No, 
the man was a stranger in the city, and could not borrow a thousand dollars, 
What would he do, think a moment?" "After another pause, a thoughtful 
boy — w ho was perfectly sincere — said : Please, sir, if a man had a thousand 
dollars of his own, and had a good character, couldn't he borrow another 



METHOD OF INTERROGATION. 247 

thousand?" Which was a perfectly correct and business-like view of the 
case, showing considerable thought on the part of the answerer. The 
teacher was now driven to answer his own vague questions ; in other 
words, at the end of the lesson, the boys had learned that, in the opinion 
of the teacher, the man with " the one thousand dollars would try to find 
another man with a thousand, etc." That was the result of a twenty 
minute effort to "develop " the idea of partnership. 

Vague questions have an exceedingly mischievous tendency. 
The thoughtful boy honestly endeavouring " to pay attention," 
is bewildered, and is likely to become inattentive to what he 
cannot understand. To the less conscientious boys, such 
questions are a premium on " guessing ; " they often hit upon 
the answers expected by the teacher, and so gain some credit 
through dishonesty. 

(2) Logical Sequence. — In the Second Place : From what 
has been already said upon the necessity of presenting facts in 
their relations, it follows that questions should be connected, 
should proceed from one point, or topic, to another, with due 
regard to the unity of the subject. Even in elementary teach- 
ing, some order should be observed in questioning • for, as 
already said, if facts are presented in their natural connection, 
there will be growth in the learner's mind into a conscious 
thinking of the relations. It may be stated once more that, in 
all grades of instruction, there can be clear thinking, and actual 
assimilation on the part of the learner, only when there are 
clear thinking (analysis and synthesis) and connected instruc- 
tion on the part of the teacher. The most fruitful source of 
weak and ineffectual teaching to-day is, without doubt, the lack 
of logical power, and, therefore, of ability in clear instruction. 
Teachers are not, of course, responsible for all the preposterous 
answers which are given at examinations, and which are made 
to do duty in exposing the weakness of educational work. But 
there is no doubt that dispersive and discursive teaching and 
questioning are partly responsible. It seems impossible that 



240 METHOD OF INTERROGATION. 

all the absurd answers are due to hasty preparation, or sheer 
stupidity. The candidates must, in some instances, have 
suffered from immethodical teaching and " discontinuous '' 
questioning. Of such teaching, the candidate who gave the 
following answer was doubtless a victim : What are the char- 
acteristics of Goldsmith's poetical and prose works ? He wrote 
both poetry and prose beautifully, his poetry being in general very 
lamentable and explanatory, and being five feet in length. 

Of course some license may be allowed in questioning on a 
familiar topic. In review-questions, a little " skipping round " 
may be permitted for practice in rapid grouping of ideas. In 
fact the serial order should give place to the topical (page 174) 
in all reviews for testing the thorough mastery of the work. 
When a teacher has presented a subject rationally, questioned 
the pupil into a perception of the meaning of the several parts, 
assisted them into thinking the proper relations, correct method 
demands that the pupil should now be able to analyze his mass 
of facts, properly group the elements, in a word, exercise inde- 
pendently the functions of analysis and synthesis. To lead to 
the habit of connected thinking, Questions should h.ave 
Continuity. (Page 170.) 

(3) Adapted to Capacity. — In order to stimulate, questions 
must be skillfully adapted to the capacity and attainments of 
the pupils, that is, they must not be too easy or too difficult 
In either case, there can be no interest, and mind-wandering is 
sure to follow (page 192, et sea.) As a general rule, properly 
adapted and definite questions will not (a) include the answer, 
or (b) suggest the answer, or (c) be answerable by a single word, 
or (d) be unanswerable, or (e) be answerable by alL In the 
case of one-word answers there are many exceptions, especially 
in rapid review-lessons. But the safe, guiding principle is : 
connected speech nuans connected thought (see page 220, et seq.) 



METHOD OF INTERROGATION. 249 

(4) Due Proportion. — Questions should repeat the mportant 
facts or principles of a subject rather than unimportant details. 
As the result of the analysis the central thought stands out 
prominently in the teacher's mind, the minor thoughts are 
arranged in proper relation according to their value, and all 
irrelevant matter is excluded. Questioning ought to result in a 
similar harmonious grouping of ideas in the minds of the learn- 
ers. Question upon the points of the lesson ac- 
cording to their importance, (page 202.) 

(b) As to the Form of Questions. — What has been 
said on the matter of questions will suggest the chief points 
as to their form. A few of these may be noticed. 

(1) Good Language. — To secure definiteness, the language of 
questions must be concise, clear, and correct ; wordy, obscure, 
and incorrect questions imply vague ideas, and lead to the 
vagueness that it is the purpose of teaching to correct. Com- 
paratively few teachers seem able to put questions in perfectly 
definite language. Even those who are fairly successful teachers 
would be astonished if their questions were reproduced verbatim 
in written form. They would indignantly challenge the accur- 
racy of the " report." We have known questioners to change 
the form of a question three or four times before its final 
delivery, thus causing the class endless perplexity. Muddled 
speech means muddled thought. 

(2) Varied. — Questions should be varied inform (1) to avoid 
monotony, and (2) to suit the subject matter of the lesson. 
Some teachers are the slaves of a changeless type of questions; 
they follow with fatal fidelity the same forms in fact-subjects, 
( Elementary Geography, e. g.,) in thought-subjects (Grammar, 
e. g.), and in action-subjects (Drawing, etc). Monotony destroys 
Interest. 

(3) Questioner's own Words. — In general, questions should 
be given in the teacher's own words. This demands thinking, 



25O METHOD OF INTERROGATION. 

and freshness of thought awakens interest. Do not be the 
servile repeater of the set questions of secular text-book, or 
Sunday-school Guide. It may be remarked that, in the case of 
words as well as of thought, the teacher is not to be a blind 
follower of the limited rule " teach only what the child under- 
stands." If the subject is within his reach, occasional " strange 
words " may be wisely used. They are a stimulus. They are 
explained by their connection with known words. We " ex- 
plain words before using them ; " but, also, we explai?i words by 
using them. 

(4) Elliptical Questions. — This is the worst of all possible 
forms, and should be rarely used. 

(5) Topical and Serial. — It has already been pointed out 
(page 220) that the serial order of questions should be followed 
by the topical method. 

Mode Of Questioning. — A few words may be added on 
the mode of putting questions, (1) Effective class questioning is 
the result of a judicious use of the individual and the class 
methods, (2) In general, the questions should be addressed to 
the class, the answers given by the individual. (3) Unless the 
teacher is at fault, a question is not to be repeated; pupils must 
attend; repetition of questions favours inattention. (4) As to 
rapidity : At the beginning of the lesson, questions for the 
grouping of ideas, for the adjusting of attention, may rapidly 
follow one another. During the course of the lesson, while the 
pupil is forming relations, i. e., thinking to the best of his ability, 
reasonable time should be allowed for the answer. Finally, in 
a review of the lesson, and in general reviews, question and 
answer should follow in quick succession. (5) Mutual question- 
ing is an excellent test and stimulus. To put a good question 
upon a subject, one must know it well. A pupil, knowing he 
will be called on to put a question, is kept on the alert, he is 
attentive; and practice in questioning others helps to form the 



METHOD OF INTERROGATION. 25 1 

habit of self-questioning, the attitude of the thinking mind 
(page 238). (6) Written Answers. There should be frequent 
written examinations. From what has been said upon the rela- 
tion of thought and language, it follows that written examina- 
tions are an essential factor in the process of mind training. 

IV. Matter and Form of Answers. 

Under this head there is little to be said that is not given 
almost expressly in our preceding studies upon questioning ; a 
brief summary will suffice, (i) Good questioning secures good 
answering, or, in other words, good teaching secures good 
results. Thoughtful questions lead to definite thinking and 
expression. The general characteristic of good answering is, 
thererore, that it is the pupil's best thinking expressed in the 
pupits best words. (2) Hence, individual answering is the rule, 
class (or sumultaneous) answering, the exception. Class- 
answering may sometimes be permitted in repetition, and in 
reviews of familiar subjects; it may, at times, be useful in 
encouraging the timid and animating the dull. But, for other 
purposes, the method is misleading, and it extensively used, 
exceedingly harmful. " It is astonishing," says Gladman, 
" with what readiness boys can take their cue from one another, 
so as to produce the appearance of unanimity, of a common 
knowledge. The wise teacher, however, knows that such 
apparently wide-spread skill is fallacious, and he will rarely 
employ a method in his teaching which admits of such misinter- 
pretation." (3) If an answer is wholly wrong, it is proof of 
imperfect teaching, and the wise teacher will not hastily decide 
that an answer is wholly wrong. In some subjects there is but 
little room for difference of opinion, in others there is great 
room. Consider a question as to the force of a word in a given 
sentence, etc. The teacher who has his stereotyped answer, to 
which all other answers must conform, represses, rather than pro- 
motes, the pupil's self-activity. The pupil' is fallible ; the teacher 



252 KINDERGARTEN WORK AND SELF-INSTRUCTION. 

is not infallible. (4) If an answer is partly right, and partly 
wrong, it shows that the pupil is thinking, and the teacher, by 
kind encouragement, and perhaps a judicious question or two, 
is to guide the pupil into clearer light. (5) Random answers 
should have no place. If the teacher is master of his business, 
they will never find place. Almost as rare will be the "Know — 
but cannot tell" answer. The rule is: "Cannot tell," 
does not know. (6) Written answers are of the highest 
value. Oral examination is not enough ; for the best results 
there must be frequent written examinations, (page 220). 
They are an indispensable element in training. Not that 
which goes into the eyes and ears of a student educates, but 
that which comes out of him in oral and especially in written 
form. No student can be certain that he has mastered a sub- 
ject till he has reproduced it. This reproduction is the test of 
knowledge, and of the power which comes from the acquisition 
of knowledge. 

Written examinations give a thorough mastery of the subiect, 
demand activity rather than passivity of the mind, and train to 
the lucid expression of vigorous thought. " They are," said 
Professor Jevons, " the most powerful means of training the in- 
tellect." Examination is Education. 



CHAPTER XI. 



KINDERGARTEN WORK AND SELF-INSTRUCTION 
IN PUBLIC SCHOOLS. 

Grounds for Establishing Kindergarten Exer- 
cises. 

When properly carried out, the Kindergarten receives the child 
at the age of three years, and applies the most efficient means 
known, to secure an all-sided development. Wherever it is 
practicable, therefore, school authorities should establish Kin- 



KINDERGARTEN WORfc AND SELF-INSTRUCTION. 253 

dergartens in connection with the public schools. We have 
seen, in our psychology, that the soul is an organic unity — that 
there are not independent — much less antagonistic — " faculties," 
but that all the so-called faculties are only different stages of 
psychical development. It follows, therfore, that there is but 
one science of education. There is not one set of prin- 
ciples for the Kindergarten, another set for the Primary 
schools, etc. The principles of the Kindergarten are thoroughly 
sound ; they are in the line of true psychology. But they are 
distinctive only in their application, under specially favourable 
cireum stances, to a certain stage of human development. In an 
ideal system of education, there would be a Kindergarten de- 
partment in every school. It is likely, however, that the 
expense of establishing and keeping in operation fully equip- 
ped Kindergartens, will operate for a time against their intro- 
duction except in cities and towns. But cannot some of the 
Kindergarten exercises, or at least exercises embodying Kinder- 
garten principles, be imported into the public schools as at 
present constituted ? May not all the children of the country 
have a taste of what is calculated to make their early school 
days happy, as well as give them a better" education and at least 
a touch of culture ? 

Can provision be made in Public^ Schools for the 
working of Kindergarten Principles and Methods ? 

In order to answer this question, we must ascertain upon 
what distinctive methods the Kindergarten ■ mainly depends to 
secure the aims of education in its three great departments, 
Physical, Moral and Intellectual. We may then judge of the 
adaptability of such methods and principles to the altered con- 
ditions presented by the Public Schools. 

1. Physical Education. — In the department of Physical 
Education, the Kindergarten, recognizing the law that .'he mind 
must be drawn away from the mere exercise as such, makes, 



254 KINDERGARTEN WORK AND SELF-INSTRUCTION. 

elaborate provision under the disguise of plays of various 
kinds, for securing strength of body, beauty of form and grace- 
fulness of bearing. In addition to this, the constant handling of 
material, and the various occupations of building, folding, 
weaving, etc, give delicacy of touch, quietness of movement, 
and deftness of hand. 

The public schools, as at present constituted, have not the separate room 
required for this training, nor has the teacher the necessary time at his dis- 
posal. Excepting, then, the manual dexterity secured to the pupil by the 
exercises designed for intellectual development, it is doubtful whether much 
more can be done for physical training, than to ]ply the calisthenics at 
present common in the best Public Schools. In cities and .owns, however, 
by adopting the " Half-Time " system, time may be had for all the most 
valuable Kindergarten methods for physical education. 

2- Moral Education. — In the department of Moral Edu- 
cation, it can scarcely be said that the Kindergarten furnishes 
any method different from that of the schools. It has, how- 
ever, many marked advantages, as, e. g. : (a) Before evil habits 
have become fixed, the child comes under the influence of a 
society whose moral code is moulded and guided by a teacher 
familiar with all the ascertained laws of moral development. All 
psychology and all experience show how important is this early 
training, (p. 72). (b) Much more time can be spared for devel- 
oping sympathy which not only goes out in kindly acts towards 
others, but is also the real basis of the moral feelings, (p. 121). 
(e) The will power is greatly strengthened by the constant em- 
ployment of hand and brain in accomplishing the various kinds 
of work proposed for intellectual development. The import- 
ance of this hand training in educating the will, is very great. 
For, the child, in controlling hand-movements, in fact all bodily 
movements, is exercising the elements that enter into the 
highest kind of self-control. Train eye, ear, hand, tongue, and 
in the process the doing not only reacts on thinking — the 
development of intelligence — it also contributes, in no slight 
degree, to moral culture (p. 145). (d) The pupil is inspired by 



KINDERGARTEN WORK AND SELF-INSTRUCTION. 255 

a spirit of order ; patience is cultivated, habits of persistence 
are acquired ; he learns to be " diligent in business," gentle in 
manner, and mindful of the rights of others. He is all the 
while gaining power to apprehend and appreciate the true, the 
beautiful and the good. 

With the exception of this strengthening of the will-power 
and general development of the ethical nature by the employ- 
ment of hand and brain — an advantage peculiar to the ex- 
ercises for intellectual development, it will be seen that in the 
department of moral education, the superiority of the Kinder- 
garten over the school is due rather to oportunity, than to any 
peculiarity of method. We should keep in mind, however, 
that the moral training resulting from Kindergarten exercises 
for intellectual development, will be so much gain to moral 
culture in the Public Schools. In fact, at this stage of develop- 
ment, intellectual, moral, and physical culture, may be almost 
considered as one. 

3. Intellectual Education.— In the intellectual field, as- 
suming development of power to be the chief work of the Kin- 
dergarten, what is really the principle, which working by means 
of the various exercises, draws forth and cultivates the mental 
powers ? On reflection, it will be found that it is the close 
attention which the child is obliged to give in 
order to perform the necessary movements in 
various pleasing constructive employments, that 
sets the mechanism of the senses in motion and 
thus secures the development of power. The at- 
tempt to do under such circumstances that each forward step 
furnishes the necessary pleasurable stimulus for deeper attention 
and further effort, will be found to be the source of most of the 
good which characterizes the Kindergarten. The operation of 
the same principle, secures skill, itself one of the ends of edu- 
cation, since it is a product of intelligence. Once more, the 
pupil learns to know by doing, and to do by knowing. 



256 KINDERGARTEN WORK AND SELF-INSTRUCTION. 

Kindergarten, Rational.— From our psychology it seems 
plain that, in true Kindergarten work, the laws of early psychical 
development are closely followed. Instruction is based upon 
the impulses ; the hunger of the senses is gratified ; the correla- 
tive laws of knowing and doing are in continuous operation ; 
there is interest, natural and acquired, which secures non-vol- 
untary attention ; the law of association works with effect, and 
good habits result ; the constant working for some end develops 
voluntary attention, the power of concentration ; from the very 
beginning, in the actions with things, there are partitions and 
constructions and designings and modellings, in a word, phys- 
ical processes, which lead gradually to the conscious exercise 
and development of the essential functions of mind, analysis 
and synthesis ; in brief, since there is, under assumed favourable 
conditions, the best possible means for the training of Sensa- 
tion, Interest, Impulse, and of the mental Processes, there is in 
that very fact, the best possible preparation for securing the 
highest results in the development of perception, memory, im- 
agination and thought, as well as of the Emotions and the Will. 

The Beginning Of Wisdom. — All the faculties, includ- 
ing reasoning, are the natural outgrowth of perception, or intuition, 
(page 17 i).- — Train the observing powers, it is urged, because 
perceived objects are simpler than laws and abstract relations, 
and prior to them. But also, and especially, train perception, 
because this training so touches all the mental powers, including 
remembering and thinking, that they will afterwards appear as 
naturally as blossom from plant and fruit from blossom. 
" Teach a child to understand ; " teach a child to see, and he 
will understand in due season. To the efficient, though perhaps 
unconscious, carrying out of this principle, is due the success 
of true Kindergarten instruction in developing the nature of the 
child. It follows, too, that the efficiency of a system of education 
depends on the efficiency of its primary education. A system which 
is weak in this, is weak in all. Clearly, then, if the principles 



KlNbEkGARtEtt WORK ANt) SELF-tNSTRUCTIOtt. ^57 

a iid methods of the Kindergarten are based on true psychology, 
they should be introduced as far as possible into every Public 
School. Training perception is training all the mental powers ; 
therefore, let ample provision be made for the best possible 
primary education, this is the Beginning of Wisdom 
in every System of Education. (Page 130.) 

Happily, many of the Kindergarten exercises which are 
designed for the development of intellectual power and of skill, 
and which incidentally, yet powerfully, aid in moral culture, 
(page 145) readily lend themselves to the modifications neces- 
sary to their introduction into Public Schools. 

The expense attending their introduction will be light — insig- 
nificant compared with the good that is sure to follow. The time 
taken for direct instruction need not exceed half an hour a day 
for first and second classes, and about three half-hour lessons a 
week for the other classes. There cannot be a doubt that the 
common branches will be learned with greater facility, and will 
have a far higher educative value. Lastly, if a teacher has had 
no special training for this work, he can easily qualify himself, 
with the help of a good Kindergarten guide. 

The modified forms of Kindergarten work now to be describ- 
ed, have been found to work well. Under the altered circum- 
stances, the teacher need not trouble himself much about the 
particular order of presenting the exercises. The important 
consideration is to keep up the interest, and for this purpose it 
is best to have variety (page no). In dealing with those 
employments requiring considerable manual dexterity, such as 
slat-work, paper-folding, and mat-weaving, the teacher is at first 
apt to select too dfficult work. This will, however, be speedily 
corrected by experience. 

1. Blocks and Building. 

In dealing with the blocks, prepare for each pupil two boxes 
of thin material one 9^3 x 4^$ inches, the other 6^ x 4^ inches, 



258 KINDERGARTEN WORK. AND SELf-lNSTRtJCTtoN. 

inside measurement. Into the shorter box which we shall desig 
nate (a), put 24 bricks, 16 squares, and 8 pillars. 

Into the longer box which we shall designate (b), put 24 
cubes, 12 half cubes and 24 quarter cubes.* 

It is found that the various kinds of blocks here mentioned can be fur- 
nished by an ordinary cabinet-maker at the rate of twenty-five cents per 
hundred, and the boxes at the rate of five cents each. Expense of material, 
therefore, is not, as generally supposed, a very important consideration. 

Ordinary Object Lessons. — Although it is the close 
observation required to perform the synthetic, or constructive 
exercises, that furnishes the peculiar power of the Kindergar- 
ten, it is well to do some work of the ordinary "object-lesson " 
type. For example, having put into the hands of each pupil 
box \b) let the teacher select eight cubes from his own box, 
and form them into a large cube. At a signal from the 
teacher the pupils do the same. This is the Third Gift of 
the Kindergarten. 

By questioning the pupils, lead them to observe the number of 
faces, the number of corners, the number of edges, in a cube. 
The terms right-angle, square, face, surface, parallel, etc, may, 
also, be learned in this connection. 

Having examined the cube as a whole, divide it into two 
equal parts, the pupils doing the same. By questions, the 
pupils should be led to observe carefully the resulting regular 
solids. Divide each of these halves again, and proceed as 
before. 

Make another division, and thus reduce the large cube to its 
elements. 

The object-lessons with the cube may now be applied to 
give the pupils clear conceptions of the terms ' half,' ' quarter,' 

* A brick is a block 2 X 1 X % inch. The half cube is formed by dividing a cube 

A square is a block 1 X 1 X J^ inch. diagonally. The quarter-cube by dividing 

A pillar is a block 2 X % X % inch. the half-cube into two equal triangular 

A cube is a block 1 X x X 1. pieces. AST Illustration, page 260. 



KINDERGARTEN WORK AND SELF-INSTRUCTION. 



*S9 



' eighth,' and to make the pupils familiar with such useful facts 
as the following : 

(a) The whole equals two halves. 
(ti) The whole equals four quarters. 

(c) The whole equals eight eighths. 

(d) A half equals two quarters. 
{e) A half equals four eighths. 

(/) A quarter equals two eighths, etc. 

Illustration. 







Again, having placed box ' a ' in the hands 
of the pupils, select from the one in your own 
possession eight bricks, and form a cube. 
This is the Fourth Gift of the Kindergarten- 



By questions, lead the pupils to examine this closely, to 
compare it with the cube formerly dealt with (Third Gift). Lead 
them to compare the bricks of which it is composed, with the 
cubes of the Third Gift. How many faces has each brick ? 



260 KINDERGARTEN WORK AND SELE-lNSf RUCTION. 




How many edges ? Each face is an oblong. Each face is a 
parallelogram, etc., etc. 

Again, having placed box '£' in the 

hands of each pupil, let the teacher 
select from the one in his own hands, 
twenty-one whole cubes, six half-cubes, 
and nine quarter cubes. Now form these 
into a cube thus : 

This is the Fifth Gift of the Kinder- 
garten. As in other cases, the pupils should be led by ques 
tioning, to make the same close observation upon this form, 
and upon the blocks of which it is composed. 

Again, having placed box ' a ' in the 
hands of each pupil, select from the one 
in your own possession eighteen bricks, 
six pillars and twelve squares. Now form 
these into a cube thus : 

This forms the Sixth Gift of the 
Kindergarten. Examine this form and 
the blocks of which it is composed in the manner already indi- 
cated. 

Value of the Object Lesson Phase of Kindergarten Work. — 
These object-lessons on the material, are not very interesting. 
If the lessons be made long, or given very frequently, they may 
become irksome. It would be a great mistake to give a long 
course of such lessons before entering upon the constructive 
exercises. Short lessons, however, given occasionally will be 
uesful for the following reasons : 

(a) They cultivate close observation. 

(p) They make the pupils familiar with the material with 
which they are working. 




KINDERGARTEN WORK AND SELF-INSTRUCTION. 26 1 

(/) They lead to a practical acquaintance with a large 
number of geometrical forms and terms. 

(d) They enlarge and enrich the pupil's vocabulary. 

(e) They are a most valuable means of improving the 

language of the pupils. 

Constructive Exercises with Blocks. — Without per- 
mitting the pupils to see how he does it, let the teacher build 
upon the table some such object as this, representing a bed- 
stead : See figure page 265. 

Keeping the form screened from view by a map or other 
means, arouse the curiosity of the little ones, to see the object 
behind the screen. Their attention will be still further deep- 
ened by informing them that after looking at the object a 
very short time, they will have to make it (page no.) When 
the teacher has by some such means as this, excited a deep 
desire to see the object, and when he knows their fingers are 
itching to begin work, let the screen be suddenly removed. 
For a short time the object is contemplated in perfect silence. 
Knowing that they are about to be called upon to form the 
same object, their observation is keenly on the alert. The mind 
swiftly compares the length with the breadth, notes the num- 
ber and the kind of blocks used for the head and for the foot, 
marks the kind of divided blocks used, etc. After the expira- 
tion of a short time, sharply give the command " Work," at 
the same time replacing the screen. 

If the teacher has successfully conducted the work up to 
this point, it will be with a thrill of delight that the pupils 
proceed to carry out this command. After a reasonable time 
has been spent in attempting to form the object, the teacher 
should give the signal to " Stop work. While the pupils are 
" in position," the teacher should pass along and examine the 
work. It will probably be found that a considerable number 
have failed. These are thus taught by experience that their 



262 KINDERGARTEN WORK AND SELF-INSTRUCTION. 

observations were, after all, too careless, and that closer 
attention must be given. 

Those who have failed should have an opportunity to re-ex- 
amine the object ; but the time given for this purpose should be 
shorter than before. Having a keen sense of their former 
failure, the pupils, as soon as the screen is raised, will make the 
best possible use of their time. In a moment, attention will be 
adjusted, (page 53) the defects which caused their former failure, 
will be remedied. All will wait impatiently for the occasion 
to shew that they are now able to do the proposed work. 
The teacher gives the command " Work," at the same time 
replacing the screen. This time they do not fail. It is obvious 
that exercises of this nature, repeated from day to day with 
various kinds of material, must cultivate some of the most 
important of the intellectual faculties. 

In dealing with the more difficult forms, the teacher should 
direct (page 236) the observations of the pupils and take them 
over the work by successive stages, as follows : 

Placing the object before the class, the teacher proceeds to 
question : 

How many blocks form the width of the 

seat ? 
How many the length of the seat ? 
The seat is how many blocks high ? 
The back is how many blocks high ? 
What kind of blocks are used for the 

foot rests? 
What kind of blocks are used for the 
arms? 

After the object has been thoroughly examined as a whole, it 
should be reduced to its constituent blocks, and then rebuilt by 
the teacher and pupils, in successive stages thus : 




KINDERGARTEN WORK AND SELF-INSTRUCTION. 263 

The pupils being " in position," the teacher, in view of the 
whole class, places in proper form, the eighteen whole blocks 
for the seat. Then on the command, " Work/' the pupils take 
the same step. The pupils resume position, and observe the 
teacher take the next step. This may consist in forming the 
back. On the command " Work," the pupils carry the work 
through the same stage. The pupils again come to position 
and observe the teacher take the next step, which may be placing 
the arms. At the command " Work," the pupils take the same 
step, etc. etc. 

It is obvious, that the work of placing the material in position will be 
facilitated by marking off the tops of the pupils' desks, into inch squares. 
This is most readily done by means of a little toothed wheel fixed in a 
handle. It can be made by any blacksmith, and will cost but a few cents. 

Language Training. — After the pupils can readily construct the given 
form, it should be employed as a means of still further cultivating the 
imagination, and of training in the use of language. For this purpose, 
the teacher should tell the pupils a story, in which the object just built, 
is made to play an important part. The imagined incidents should, 
of course, be made as interesting as possible. When all know the incidents, 
pupils should be successively called upon to relate the story. This effort 
on the part of the pupil at once lays bare the defects in his language. A 
very gentle criticism by the teacher should be followed by a renewed effort, 
and so on. 

After the pupils can tell the given story fairly well, they should be 
encouraged to "make up " stories in connection with the object under con- 
sideration. Attempts of this nature have an educative value distinct from 
those just described. They appeal directly and powerfully to the creative 
imagination. Of course, the circumstance that the story is the product of 
the pupil's imagination, does not reduce its value as a means of training in 
language. 

Desk Work, or Self-instruction for the Little 

Ones. — While the teacher is employed with other classes, the 
little children may be usefully employed as follows : — 

(a) They may repeat the forms already taught. 

(b) They may imitate forms placed upon the table in full view. 



264 



KINDERGARTEN WORK AND SELF-INSTRUCTION. 



(c) They may build from a diagram placed upon the board, 
or printed on a large sheet. 

(d) They may be left entirely to the dictates of their own 
fancy as to forms. 

(e) They may write some of the stories which have been 
told in connection with the forms. 

(f) They may invent stories. 

It will be found, that the self-instruction here and elsewhere indicated 
in these pages, will simplify the difficulty of keeping' order. The pupils 
become too deeply absorbed in these pleasant occupations, to give trouble ; 
and thus, much of the school-room worry disappears. 

The number of forms that may be thus treated is unlimited. 
Teachers should examine the illustrations given in " The Kin- 
dergarten Guide " No. 2 by Maria Kraus-Boelte and John 
Kraus. The forms on pages 265-6 are given by way of sug- 
gestion : 

Forms of Beauty with Blocks. — After the pupils 
have been led to understand the simple underlying principle 
of the balance of parts, they may in a great measure be left to 
themselves in this part of the work. 



They may be led to apprehend the 
balance of parts, thus : 

What form is this ? I shall now place a 
brick here (placing it at the top) : 






We now have this form : 

Where should we place another brick to 
balance the form? The pupils will suggest 
that there must be one placed at the bottom. 

The teacher may now say " I shall place 
a brick in the middle on the right side \ 
where should another go to balance the figure ? " etc. etc. 






KINDERGARTEN WORK AND SELF-INSTRUCTION. 265 
















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266 KINDERGARTEN WORK AND SELFlNSTRUCTIuN. 




KINDERGARTEN WORK AND SELF-INSTRUCTION. 267 

When the teacher has thus created, at the dictation of the 
pupils, a number of forms such as the following, it will be found 















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that the pupils will of their own accord apply the principle 
of balance of parts. They will now amuse themselves in mak- 
ing symmetrical figures with the blocks. 

By way of suggestion, however, the teacher should occasion- 
ally place a new design before them for imitation. Thus, it 
will be found, that forms such as some of those on pages 272-3, 
(See also Kindergarten Guide) thrown in by the teacher, will 
prove very stimulating : 

Value of Exercises. — (1) They greatly strengthen the 
power of attention. 



26S KINDERGARTEN WORK AND SELF-INSTRUCTION. 

(2) They are peculiarly fitted to impart energy and quickness 

to the powers of observation. 

(3) They are a powerful means of strengthening- the memory. 

(4) The very imperfections of the forms develop constructive 

imagination. The imagination corrects all defects in 
the rude representation. 

(5) * The constant attempt to express in material forms the 

conceptions of the mind, strengthens the will- 
power. 

(6) * The attempt to do while the mind is stimulated on so 

many sides, imparts skill or manual dexterity. 

(7) The practice of connecting the object built, with interest- 

ing stories, can be made the means of cultivating 
both the constructive and the creative phase of ima- 
gination. 

(8) The telling of the stories mentioned in (7) under the 

guidance of the teacher, improves the pupils in oral 
composition. 

(9) The Porn of Beauty furnish a powerful instrument of 

aesthetic culture. 

II. The Tablets. 

The Tablets should be formed of thin pieces of wood well 
seasoned. They should be of the following forms ; 

(1) The square, one inch to the side. 

(2) The equilateral triangle, one inch to a side. 

(3) The right angled isosceles triangle, each of the sides con- 
taining the right angle being one inch. 

(4) The right angle scalene triangle, one of the sides con- 
taining the right angle being two inches and the other one inch 
to"g- __ 

* The benefit claimed in 'No's. 5 and 6 will be evident upon a slight examination of 
those kinds of work more especially designed for hand-training as Slat-WOrk, mat- 

weaving, paper-folding, etc. 



KINDERGARTEN WORK AND SELF-INSTRUCTION. 269 

(5) The obtuse angled isosceles triangle, the side opposite 
the obtuse angle being two inches long. 

The following has been found to be a good arrangement of 
colours. 

(1) The squares red on one side, and white on the other. 

(2) The equilateral triangles, yellow on one side and purple 
on the other. 

(3) The right angled issoceles triangle, red on one side and 
green on the other. 

^4) The right angled scalene triangle, one side orange and 
the other blue. 

(5) The obtuse angled isosceles triangle, one side black the 
other indigo. 

Remark. — It is found that all kinds of tablets can be supplied by a good 
cabinet-maker at the rate of sixteen cents per hundred. For Public School 
purposes, it is recommended that a sufficient number be procured to furnish 
each pupil with about 40 of each kind. A little paste-board box is all that 
is required to hold the tablets used by each pupil. 

Object Lessons on the Tablets. — As in the case of 
the blocks, before the constructive exercises with any particular 
tablet are entered upon, the tablet should be made the basis of 
an object lesson. 

Thus, by means of questions, the pupils should be led to 
count the sides and compare their lengths. The ideas repre- 
sented by the words, parallel, perpendicular, oblique, etc., should 
be elicited. The different kinds of angles should be con- 
sidered, etc. 

Just as time permits, these object lessons should be extended 
beyond the particular tablet to the geometrical forms that can 
be made with it. 

Thus, supposing the pupils to have mastered the jWjgj^ 
equilateral triangle, the rhombus may be considered, /mmw 
and the pupils called upon to form this figure with two equi- 
lateral triangles. 



270 KINDERGARTEN WORK AND SELF-INSTRUCTtON. 

The trapezoid may be considered 
/|gjp|p§p and the pupils called upon to form a» 
MSISB ? this figure with three triangles. The 
rhomboid with four, etc., etc. 

Again supposing the right angled scalene triangle to 
have been carefully considered, the pupils may be 
called upon to form an oblong with two of these tri" 
angles. 



A large obtuse angled triahgled with two. 



A rhomboid with two. 



A trapezum with two. 



A rhomboid with four. 



A trapezoid with four. 









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An equilateral triangle with three. 




A trapezium with three. 




KINDERGARTEN WORK. AND SELF-INSTRUCTION, 27 1 



A trapezoid with three. 



A rhomboid with four. 




A large obtuse-angled triangle with four. 



A hexagon with six, etc. etc 





It is evident that work of this kind will make the pupils very familiar 
with the forms dealt with in elementary geometry. The teacher must not for- 
get, however, that the chief value of Kindergarten work centres in the 
constructive exercises. 

Constructive Exercises with Tablets. — The mode 
of dealing with the tablets will naturally follow the same general 
lines as that with the blocks. 

As the forms made with the tablets represent the pictures of 
things rather than the things themselves, they can be exhibited 
to the pupils upon a vertical surface better than upon a 
horizontal one, such as a table. The following simple method 
is found to answer the purpose remarkably well : 

(1) Hang against the wall a board 2>% ft- x 2 X ft-» painted of a light 
drab color, and ruled or pricked into inch squares like the tops of the pupils 
desks. 



2^4 KINDERGARTEN WORK AND SELF-iNSTRUCttOft. 

(2) Let the teacher set aside fifty or sixty of each kind of tablet for his 
own use, and have these furnished with little brads. The brads should pro- 
ject from the centre of each tablet about an eighth of an inch. In order to 
make provision for the different colors, half of each kind of tablet should 
have the brad on one side, and half on the other. 

The teacher can now with the utmost ease present any desired form. 

Self-Instruction with the Tablets. 

(a) The children may repeat with the tablets any form already 
taught, and then draw the same upon their slates, or in their 
Kindergarten drawing books. This change of work, without 
the intervention of the teacher, — is found most valuable in 
securing long continued attention. 

(b) They may produce new forms, either exhibited by the 
teacher, or dictated by their own fancy. When such forms 
have been completed with the tablets, they should be drawn, as 
mentioned in the foregoing paragraph. 

Remark. — Of course this kind of desk work, answers equally well for 
the work with the sticks, to be described hereafter. 

The forms that may be thus treated, are inexhaustible. The 
teacher should examine " The Kindergarten Guide " No. 3, by 
Maria Kraus-Boelte, and John Kraus. Those given on. page 
273 are suggestive. 

In dealing with the Forms of Beauty, those on page 274 are 
given by way of suggestion : 

III. The Sticks. 

Each child should be supplied with a number of square 
sticks such as are used in the Kindergarten. Some of these 
should be one inch long, some two inches, some three, some 
four, and some five. They will be much more interesting to the 
pupils, if colored. Such sticks are very inexpensive, and may be 
obtained from any dealer in Kindergarten material. 

It has already been pointed out how the blocks and the 
tablets may be used, as the means of making the pupils familiar 



KINDERGARTEN WORK AND SELF-INSTRUCTION. Z 1 } ^ 




'74 KINDERGARTEN WORK AND SKLF-INSTRJCTION. 







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KINDERGARTEN WORK AND SELF-INSTRUCTION. 275 

with geometrical forms. The sticks furnish peculiar facilities 
for repeating and extending such instruction. 

Thus, the little ones may be called upon to form with sticks 
right angles, obtuse angles, acute angles, polygons, heptagons, 
hexagons, etc., etc. 

The teacher must, however, as in the case of the blocks, or 
the tablets, exercise the same care to prevent such lessons 
becoming irksome. 

The sticks also furnish excellent material for the study of 
numbers, each pupil performing the fundamental arithmetical 
operations for himself. It cannot be claimed, however, that 
this method is peculiar to the Kindergarten, or that the sticks 
are superior to other counters. 

Constructive Exercises with the Sticks. — In order 
to represent the forms to the class, the teacher should have a 
portion of the blackboard, ruled into two-inch squares, the 
lines being formed with white paint, and as thin as can be 
seen by all the pupils. Upon these lines, the teacher may 
easily exhibit by means of the ordinary blackboard crayon, any 
form which he desires the pupils to produce by means of sticks 
upon the lines forming the checkered surface of their desks. 

The following forms are suggestive : See page 276. Teachers 
should examine " The Kindergarten Guide," No. 4, by Maria 
Kraus-Boelte and John Kraus. 

Kindergarten Drawing. 

It is obvious that the sticks are merely embodied lines. The 
mode of dealing with part of the work, therefore, needs no ex- 
planation. The following forms are suggestive : See page 277. 

IV. Exercises for Hand Training. 
F >r Public School purposes, perhaps the most valuable em- 
ployments are Slat Interlacing, Paper Folding, and Mat Weav- 
ing. These furnish an almost endless variety of choicest exer- 



276 KINDERGARTEN WORK AND SELF-INSTRUCTION. 





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278 KINDERGARTEN WORK AND SELF-INSTRUCTION. 

cises for training the hand. They are, at the same time, fully 
equal to any of the other employments as a means of mental 
training. Therefore, their value can scarcely be overestimated. 

Slat Interlacing 1 . — Slat interlacing consists in making 
forms by means of interlacing thin elastic wooden slats. For 
the purpose here contemplated, those ten inches long and two- 
fifths of an inch wide, are best. A number sufficient to supply 
each pupil with about sixteen, should be provided. They are 
inexpensive and may be obtained from any dealer in Kinder- 
garten material. These slats are well adapted to give instruc- 
tion in geometrical forms, but as these have received sufficient 
consideration in dealing with other material, it is best to proceed 
at once with the exercises for hand-training. In dealing with 
the simpler forms, the following method is found to work well : 

The teacher, having made with the slats set apart for his own 
use, a number of patterns of the particular form he requires 
to have imitated, distributes them among the pupils for in- 
spection. After the lapse of a short time, these should be col- 
lected, and the command given " to work." Those who fail 
should have another opportunity, but the time allowed for ex- 
amination should be shortened, etc. 

For the more difficult forms, the work should be divided into 
a number of stages, as in the case of dealing with blocks. 

The teacher will be in a much better position to give in- 
struction in this department of work, (in fact, in all depart, 
ments) if he will take the trouble to read some of the little 
Kindergarten works on Slat Interlacing (Number 4 of the 
" Kindergarten Guide " by M. Kraus-Bolte and J. Kraus will 
give all that is required.) 

The following forms are offered by way of suggestion.* 
See page 279. [ 

* Slat Interlacing furnishes one of the best forms of "desk work" for the pupils while the 
teacher is engaged with other classes. It should consist in imitating forms distributed by 
the teacher. Since in this case they are at liberty to look at the specimens as often as 
they please, the forms may be somewhat difficult. 



KINDERGARTEN WORK AND SELF-INSTKUCTION. 279 




200 KINDERGARTEN WORK AND SELF-INSTRUCTION. 

Paper Folding. — For the older First Book pupils, the 
employments of Slat Interlacing, Paper Folding, and Mat 
Weaving are peculiarly appropriate. They make a greater 
demand upon the powers of observation and reflection, than do 
the exercises with the blocks and tablets, while they give 
a most excellent hand-training. The peculiar value of the 
occupations just named for securing manual dexterity depends 
in a considerable measure upon the circumstance, that the ex- 
ercises permit of any desired gradation in point of difficulty. 
Thus, some of the simpler work, may be performed by a child 
of five years, while the more dificult forms fairly tax the powers 
of pupils of eight or ten. 

For Paper Folding, the teacher should provide sheets of paper four inches 
square. Manilla paper which is tough and of various colors is best for the 
purpose. Any dealer in stationary can supply the large sheets of Manilla 
paper. The cutting of these to the proper size presents but little difficulty. 

The forms here given will suggest much useful work, but teachers desir- 
ing to introduce this admirable occupation should procure " Steiger's 
Designs for Paper Folding." 

PAPER-FOLDING. 

Having placed in the hands of each child one of the small folding-sheets, 
the teacher takes a sheet of the same form, but so large that its foldings 
may be readily seen by all the pupils (say 8 inches square. ) Having secured 
close attention to her movements, the teacher brings two of the opposite 
sides together and smooths the paper. At the command "work" the 
pupils take the same step. The teacher now brings the opposite sides 
together, smoothing the paper as before. At the command "work," the 
pupils carry the work through the same stage. 

When opened, the sheet presents this appearance : 




Eig. i, 



KINDERGARTEN WORK AND SELF-INSTRUCTION. 



28l 



Now, bringing the opposite corners over each other and smoothing, the 
sheet presents this appearance : 



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Fig. 2. 

1 tie pupils should not be permitted to advance to the construction 
exercises in Paper-Folding, till they can neatly and quickly secure the 
creases shown in Fig. 2. 

First Basis. — The teacher having ascertained that all the pupils have 
creased their papers, she takes her large sheet creased in the same way, 
turns the corners upon the centre, and smooths the paper. At the com- 
mand "work," the pupils do the same with their sheets. All, now, have 
in their hands, this form : 



Fig- 3- (First Basis.) 



From this form, other forms are made in endless variety. A form from 
which others are made is called a basis. Fig. 3, shows the First Basis in 
Paper-Folding. 

Derived form, No. I. — Let the teacher see that all the pupils have Basis 
No 1 in their hands. Now, taking the same form, (large) she turns the 



282 KINDERGARTEN WORK AND SELF-INSTRUCTION. 

corners back on the middle of the iour sides of square and smooths the 
paper. At the command "work," the pupils do the same. This gives us 
the following form • 




Fig. 4, (Derived Form, No. 1.) 

Derived Form, No. 2. — Let the teacher see that all the pupils have 
"Derived Form No. 1 " in their hands. Now, taking the same form, 
(large) she simply bends in the corners. At the command "work," the 
pupils do the same. This gives us the following form : 




Fig. 5, (Derived Form No. 2. ) 

Forms, Endless in Variety. — This system of producing new forms by 
slightly modifying old forms, may be carried on indefinitely. As other 
bases may be assumed each as prolific as the one we have denominated 
First Basis, it is obvious that Paper-Folding is as rich in the matter of 
forms as any of the other Kindergarten occupations. 



KINDERGARTEN WORK AND SELF-INSTRUCTION. 



283 



Forms Suggested. — The following forms produced from First Basis are 
given by way ol suggestion : 






Harmonious Blending of Colors. — After the pupils have had some prac- 
tice in producing forms from a single sheet, they should be directed to take 
two or more sheets of different, but harmonious colors, and laying them 
over each other fold as if one sheet. This blending of colors adds, wonder- 
fully, to the beatity of the forms and th erefore to the interest in the exercises. 

Paper- Folding as Desk-Work. — Paper-Folding opens up a magnificent 
field for Self -instruction. 

(1) Pupils may be permitted to reproduce at pleasure forms already 
taught. 

(2) They may be allowed to invent new forms. 

(3) They may produce particular forms demanded by the teacher. For 
this pui'pose the teacher should make the required forms, with large sheets, 
and so place them that they may be readily seen by all the pupils. 

Note. — Permissions to blend colors, should always be granted the 
pupils when engaged in Desk-work. 

Mat- Weaving. — This occupation so interesting and use- 
ful to children, consists of weaving strips of colored paper into 
a leaf of paper differently colored. For this purpose the leaf, 
with the exception of a margin, is cut into strips, and the 
weaving is performed by means of needles of peculiar construc- 
tion. A glance at the diagrams given below will clearly indicate 
the nature of the employment. The teacher's power of apply- 
ing this admirable means of training will be greatly increased by 
examining "Steiger's Designs for Mat- Weaving. 



284 KINDERGARTEN WORK AND SELF-INSTRUCTION. 

Mat-Weaving furnishes an occupation for Seat Work unsur- 
passed in excellence, by any of the other departments of work. 

The following diagrams are given by way of suggestion : See 
page 285. 

The "Modified Forms" Under More Favorable 
Conditions. 

For Public School purposes, it is believed that the exercises already 
outlined, are sufficiently varied. Without any change whatever in the 
present school arrangements at least some of them may be introduced. 
Where the teacher is much pressed for time, they will still be found of great 
utility as "Desk Work." It is found, however, that in large graded 
schools a much better plan is to make room for them by adopting the 
Half-Time System. By this system, the pupils in the First Book 
take only part of each half-day for the regular work laid down in the 
Public School programme, leaving the remaining part for other exercises. 
To illustrate how the arrangement affords the necessary time for Kinder- 
garten work in large Schools, let us suppose that there are two separate de- 
partments doing First Book work, each department provided with a teacher 
employed solely upon the regular work of the programme. Now, for the 
pupils of these two departments, let us suppose a Kindergarten room with 
a teacher capable of doing Kindergarten work. Let us suppose the pupils 
of the two departments first mentioned divided into two sections, a junior 
and a senior section. 

In the morning, the juniors of both rooms pass into the Kindergarten 
department, and the seniors into the rooms for ordinary work. After 
intermission, a change takes place, the seniors passing into the Kinder- 
garten room, and the juniors into the room for ordinary work. 

It is found that this arrangement gives time, not only for the employ- 
ments described in the foregoing pages, but for those Kindergarten exercises 
designed for physical and moral training. The teacher of the Kindergarten 
department, not being held responsible for the pupils' ability to pass the 
promotion examination, turns kindly to those subjects on the Public 
School programme which are too often neglected. Thus '.he cultivation of 
the voice by simple songs, object lessons, and oral composition receive 
due attention. 



KINDERGARTEN WORK AND SELF-INSTRUCTION. 285 





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2&6 KINDERGARTEN WORK AND SELF-INSTRUCTION. 

Results Manifested. 

In schools in which these modified forms of Kindergarten 
work have been adopted, the following results have been clearly 
manifest : 

(a) The pupils have a much higher degree of general intelli- 
gence. 

(b) They have a greater power of concentration. 

(e) They have a much better command of language. 

(d) They do better in arithmetic, getting the first ideas more 
readily, and also conceptions of fractions. 

(e) They learn more easily the forms of letters and words, 
and hence reading comes easier. 

(f) The exercises have completely displaced the inveterate 
idea that school is a pleasant place to go from. 

(g) The little ones being delighted with the school, the 
interest of parents is awakened ; and the interest of the parents 
helps " the teacher to make the school." 

Self-Instruction in Common Work. 

Reproduction. — With the kindergarten exercises maybe introduced 
much desk-work in connection with the ordinary lessons. The importance 
of " doing " in primary education has been often pointed out. Reproduc- 
tion is the test Of self-activity. And hence every lesson should be 
made, as far as possible, the occasion of self-instruction. It is of the utmost 
importance that during working hours, all the classes should be always at 
definite work. In a properly managed rural school, as good results can be 
produced as in any graded school ; because, from the force of circum- 
stances, the law of self- education has a chance to operate ; pupils must help 
themselves, and self-reliance must, to some extent, be cultivated. In a 
graded school, where each teacher has but one class, there is, in general, too 
much teaching and too little independent work. The teacher is most of 
the time teaching and the pupils are most of the time trusting : with the 
ever-present help of the teacher they lose, or never fully acquire, the spirit 
of self-help. But in rural schools much time must either be given to self- 
instruction, or wasted in idleness. Let every teacher of a country school 
make provision for having all his pupils always at work, and, in real educa- 
tional results, he may challenge comparison with the best graded schools 



KINDERGARTEN WORK AND SELF-INSTRUCTION. 287 

Preparation of Lesson Provides for Self-Instruction.— The 
advanced classes can easily be kept employed. But for all classes, self-in- 
struction work should be carefully considered and properly prescribed. 
Hap-hazard suggestions given on the spur of the moment, are all but use- 
less. Definite work should be assigned for a definite purpose. Work given 
merely as " busy " work, from a vague idea that youthful hands ought to be 
doing "something," is the futile expedient of a feeble teacher. But work 
prescribed for a definite result in self-instruction is of the highest value. In 
educative results it is the most profitable work done in the school. There- 
fore, an important part of the honest teacher's preparation for every lesson 
will be to determine the amount, the purpose, and the plan of the necessary 
self-instruction exercises. 

The teacher will have but little difficulty in assigning such work on the 
ordinary lessons of the day, and so interspersing them with the kindergar- 
ten exercises which have been described that they will not fail to be inter- 
esting, and, therefore, profitable. 

1. Writing and Drawing. — Children should begin writing and drawing 
as soon as they enter school. Kindergarten drawing, the exercises accom- 
panying the primary readers, and easy sketches of familiar things, will 
supply much desk-work. The sooner a child acquires some facility in writ- 
ing the sooner he is ready to reap all the benefits of self-instruction. 

2. Reading. — In learning to associate the sound and form of a letter, the 
child should make the letter, and should write the word when the letters of 
it have been learned. He learns the sounds, e.g., of &, c, t, and fixes their 
forms in his mind by writing them separately and together in the word cat. 
Even ability to rule his slate or paper neatly requires much attentive practice. 

3. When a pupil has become familiar with some of the letters and their 
powers, he may be set to select the letters which form the names of objects 
presented in pictures. For example, from the picture of a pan, he may 
be asked to select the letters and write as neatly as he can the word, pan. 

4. The child should write all the new words of a lesson, and, as soon as 
possible, should have practice in forming easy sentences from given words. 

5. He should copy short sentences, especially proverbs, gems of poetry, 
etc. , upon which interesting lessons have been given, and which it is wise 
to have committed to memory. 

6. After a few exercises in telling stories from pictures — under the guid- 
ance of the teacher — it affords good practice to leave the pupil entirely to 
his own perception and imagination in interpreting suitable pictures. 



288 KINDERGARTEN WORK AND SELF-INSTRUCTION- 

7. Children are always interested in stories told by the teacher, and the 
reproduction of such stories is a valuable exercise. 

Arithmetic. — From the beginning, arithmetic should supply useful exam- 
ples for desk-work. For example : 

1. There may be practice in making and varying the number-forms with 
blocks, or other counters, and on slates, e.g., different forms for five, 
six, etc. 

2. There may be practice in writing down the sums of pairs of numbers 
and the differences of pairs, first in words, then in figures ; e.g., | : : J 
four and two are six. Then 4+2 = 6, 6-2=4, etc - Also in formal 
additions, of numbers, by means of figures, e.g., 2+1+3 = 6, the addends 
being arranged as in common addition. 

3. After numerous problems have been solved by means of number- 
forms, there may be practice in making up easy problems, such as the 
teacher has given ; for example : Charlie has 6 cents and he pays 2 cents for 
a pencil for his sifter, how much has he left ? Willie has six turkeys and 
sells two of them for three dollars, and the rest at a dollar a pair, how 
much money does he receive altogether? Several columns of nambers 
may be given, the sum of no column exceeding 6 : e.g., 

2 tens = 20 

3 tens = 30 
I tens = 10 



I 2 3 
221 
3 1 2 



2130 
1 2 1 2 
3 3 14 



6 tens = 60 

4. Similarly, pupils may be asked to tell all they can about e.g., the num- 
ber six : five and one are six, (5+1=6); two and four are six (2 + 4=6), 
etc. There are three twos in six ; there are two threes in six, etc. And so 
on with the pictures for larger numbers ; as, e.g., twenty represented by 

four ♦ How many fives ? How many fours ? How many twos, etc. 
♦ ♦ 

5. In a similar way, such practice may lead to the mastery of the mul- 
tiplication table: e.g.: 

♦ ♦ ♦ Once 3 is 3. 
« * * Twice 3 is 6, etc., etc. 
The foregoing are simply thrown out as suggestions. The thoughtful 
teacher, who prepares his lessons, will be able to present an endless variety 
of interesting self-instruction work. The rule is : All at work, and al- 
ways at work. 

Note. — The Kinder-Garten Guide (which has been referred to) ought to 
be in every teacher's hands; Published by E. Steiger & Co., from whom all 
sorts of Kinder-garten material can be had at reasonable rates. 



OUTLINE METHODS IN SPECIAL SUBJECTS. 289 

CHAPTER XIII. 

OUTLINE METHODS IN SPECIAL SUBJECTS. 

■» I. Geography. 
1- Objects of the Study. — Apart from its. practical utility Geography 
when properly taught, affords an excellent means of mental discipline and 
general culture. It appeals to the imagination, strengthens the memory, 
and stimulates the reasoning powers by inducing the habit of discriminating 
facts and forming real relations. It supplies invaluable information about 
innumerable familiar objects and aspects of nature, and excites an interest 
in these that gives a new charm to every country walk. 

2. Preparatory Object Lessons- — Object Lessons on plants, ani- 
mals and minerals, should be begun as soon as the pupil enters school, and 
may be continued throughout the whole course. An Object lesson for geo- 
graphical purposes may have more of the character of an information lesson 
(imparting fact-lore). Such lessons shoul 1 include the geographical classi- 
fication of animals and plants, as for example those of the Hot Region, 
those of the Temperate Region and those of the Cold Region. Those 
animals and plants which do not come under the observation of the chil- 
dren, should receive most attention. 

3- Cardinal Points Of Compass.— (i) Sun at Noon.— Draw atten- 
tion to the position of the sun at noon and inform the pupils that when we 
face the sun at that hour, we look toward the South, and that our backs, are 
to the North, the left hand to the East and the right hand to the West. 

(2) Sun at Rising and Setting. — Inform the pupils that the sun rises 
in the East and sets in the West. 

(3) Shadow of Stick. — Set up a stick about four feet long in a vertical 
position in the yard. At noon the shadow points North and South. 

(4) Diagram upon Floor. — Draw upon the floor a long line pointing 
North and South. Bisect this by another of the same length, pointing East 
and West. Causing a pupil to take the centre, give directions "Go North," 
"Go South," "Go East," in quick succession. Now, put in lines for the 
intermediate directions and proceed as before. Again — Place a map 
directly over the diagram with the top to the North. Now, after resting 
an instant the end of the pointer upon the central part of the map, move it 
towards the sides, the pupils describing the movement as N, S, E, &c, &c. 
Inform the pupils that it is for convenience we hang the map against the wall, 

T 



29O OUTLINE METHODS IN SPECIAL SUBJECTS. 

4. Developing Idea Of Map. — (1) Boundaries. — Let the teacher 
secure the assistance of the class in drawing a plan of the school-room floor, 
marking the place of the doors, windows, etc. This plan may be drawn first 
upon the floor, then the pupils should draw it upon their slates. Deal with 
ihe school yard in the same manner. 

(2) Scale in Maps. — The teacher draws a horizontal line about two feet 
long upon the board, and says "Let us call this the North side of the room." 
" Who will come to the board and draw lines for the other sides ? " The. 
sides being drawn, the teacher calls upon others to mark the places for the 
doors, windows, desks, etc. The teacher then draws a horizontal line one 
foot long and says, " Let us call this the North side of the room ; " " Who 
will come to the board and put in the other sides ? " Proceeds as before. 
Next a line /our inches long is drawn and the teacher calls this the North 
side and proceeds as in the other case. The pupils thus see that the school 
room can be represented by pictures of different sizes. 

(3) The teacher hands a boy a foot rule and asks him to measure the 
North side and the East side of the room. Supposing it is found that the 
measurements are 20 feet and 24 feet, the teacher says " If I call every foot 
one inch, how many inches long will be the lines to represent those sides ? " 
Let these be drawn upon the board, etc. Now let another pupil take the 
foot rule and find the length of the teacher's desk. Supposing it proves 
to be 5 feet, get the pupils to decide that it will take a line 5 inches long to 
represent it in the plan. The school yard may now be represented, taking 
one inch to represent a yard- (These processes employ child's own 
activity, pp. 129, seq. ; they define fundamental ideas, pp. 80-81 ; they 
base representation on presentation, pp. 93-94 : they connect the new with 
the old, p. 171.) 

5. Definitions of Natural Divisions of Land and Water.— 

(1) Pupils to form Definitions. — Be careful that the things defined are 
thoroughly understood, and that the pupils as far as possible form the defini- 
tions for themselves. (Page 49.) 

(2) Presenlative to Representative. — From adjacent hill lead the pupil to 
the conception of a mountain. From well known creek, to the idea ex- 
pressed by " river." (Page 74.) 

(3) Moulding-Board Representations. — Letting the blue surface of the 
moulding-board represent the sea, form islands, capes, peninsulas, etc., 
with river sand. 

(4) Pictorial Representations. — Lead the pupils to examine pictorial re- 
presentation of islands, bays, capes, etc. 



OUTLINE METHODS IN SPECIAL SUBJECTS. 29 1 

6. Map Notation. — The pupils should be taught to read the map as 
one does the newspaper. Many of the facts given in most so-called des- 
criptive parts of geographical text-books, are clearly stated upon the map 
and do not need further expression. In order that the pupils may feel at 
home with a map, they must be familiar with the manner of representing 
not only capes, bays, peninsulas, towns, etc., but plateaus, lowlands, etc. 

The pupils should be led to discover for themselves the important physi- 
cal features of each country. This will compel him to think while studying 
the map, and lead to self-activity and independence of research. (Pages 92 
and 105.) 

7. Developing Ideas of the Earth's Shape and Size— (i) Shape 

of the Earth. — Let the teacher provide peas, marbles, oranges, or other 
spherical bodies. Holding the marble and the pea up to view, " In what 
respect do they resemble each other? " (Shape). " In what respect do the 
orange and the ball resemble each other ? " The marble and the orange ? 
So, too, this globe (school-globe) resembles the world in shape. (Page 58.) 

(2) Size of the Earth. — How long would it take a man to walk around 
it? How long would it take a train running forty-five miles an hour to 
run around it, etc. ? 

8. Basic Ideas in Mathematical Geography— (i) Poles, Axis, 

Equator, Latitude, etc. — Causing an ordinary black globe to spin, call on 
pupils to draw a line through those points upon the surface which move 
most quickly. The line drawn through those points represents the equator. 
" What points move most slowly ? " These two points are the poles. 
The straight line joining these is called the axis. All points between the 
equator and the North Pole are said to be in North Latitude. All points 
between the equator and the South Pole are said to be in South Latitude. 
Lead the pupils to see the necessity of lines of latitude and lines of longi- 
tude, by asking them to describe the position of points made with the crayon 
upon the surface of the black globe. 

(2) Hot Region, Cold Region, Temperate Region. — Show the pupils the 
location of those regions. " Why does the belt around the middle of the 
earth become so hot, and why does the temperature become lower as we 
move towards the poles ? " 

9- A Map as an Enlarged Picture of a Portion of the Globe.— 

Map and Globe taught together. — The teacher says "On this map of the 
world, I see two large portions of land, joined by a narrow neck. (Here 
point to map of North and South America). " Who will come to the globe 
and find the same?" Again — "On this map of the world you perceive 



292 OUTLINE METHODS IN SPECIAL SUBJECTS. 

this large island (Australia)." Will you find the same island on the 
globe? etc. etc. 

10. Interest in Map Work. — Connection between Places and Charac- 
teristic Animals and Plants. — In dealing with a map of the world, the 
grand divisions should be connected with such people and with such pro- 
ductions as may be characteristic. The teacher should make the dead mat- 
ter of maps fairly glow with interest. 

Pointing to a map the teacher says " Here is the home of the Negro." 
A few words upon the customs of the negroes in Africa will secure the 
closest attention. When the attention is rivetted, the teacher says " This 
country is called : " here write the word Africa upon the board ; do not 
pronounce it till all have looked at it. If pronounced at first, the pupils 
will not care to examine the spelling. Pupils then called upon to pro- 
nounce and spell the word. The teacher may now throw in — " It is also 
the home of the hippopotamus and the giraffe." " Who will find the home 
of the Negro on the globe. " Other regions dealt with in a similar manner. 

11. Causes Affecting Climate- — Distance from the Equator. Height 
above the Sea-level. — Before entering upon the continents the pupils should 
be made familiar with the principal causes determining the climate of a 
place. 

(a) The distance from the equator. 

(b) The height above the sea-level, 

(c ) The nature of the winds sweeping over it. 
{d) Slopes towards or away from the equator. 

(e) The nature of the currents (warm or cold) washing its shores. 

12- The Continents.— (1) Topical Method.— {a) The Topical Method 
should be followed. (Analytic Method, p. 167.) Teacher and pupils enter 
upon the study of the different topics. This method properly carried out, 
requires wide reading on the part of teacher and pupils. The pupils must 
have access to the best books of reference and also to the best books of 
recent travel. The books of reference will be especially useful as giving 
infonnation for the ordinary recitation in geography ; and an hour should 
be set apart each week for the reading by the pupils of interesting items 
found in the books of travel. 

(b) The desire of the class to enter upon the study of any prarticular 
division or country, may be aroused to a state of enthusiasm by exhibiting 
pictures of its striking characteristics, as regards scenery, great works of 
art, people, animals, plants, etc. The solar camera, of course, surpasses 
all other apparatus for this purpose. Specimens of productions will also 



OUTLINE METHODS IN SPECIAL SUBJECTS. 293 

prove very useful. Specimens and pictures will be gladly collected by the 
pupils. (Page 76.) 

(r) Since Political Geography rests upon and is largely determined by 
physical conditions, it follows that physical Geography should be first 
learned. The natural order of topics would be (1) Outline and coast fea- 
tures, (2) Surface, including the great highland regions, slopes, moun- 
tains, rivers, lakes. (3) Climate and productions. (4) People. 

(2) Map-work in General. — The most effective means of making the 
pupils familiar with part of a map, is to practise them in drawing the part 
from memory. (Page 91.) Map-drawing should, however, be regarded as a 
means not as an end. It is not necessary, then, that the maps of the 
pupils should be very accurate. The energies of the pupils should not be 
wasted in learning any of the so-called systems of map-drawing by con- 
struction lines. 

Although it is not necessary that the maps drawn by the pupils be 
absolutely correct, the maps from which the pupils learn geography should 
be accurate. An outline rapidly drawn upon the board by the teacher is 
almost certain to give erroneous ideas of relative position and of proportion. 
A true outline painted in some bright color upon the ordinary blackboard, 
or better still, upon a movable blackboard of slate-cloth, is almost indis- 
pensable in teaching maps. For a similar reason the pupils should use 
pasteboard outlines of the continents. The true form of the boundary 
being thus retained, the pupils are not likely to go far astray in putting in 
the other map-work. 

Whenever possible life should be thrown into the dead matter of maps, 
by connecting the places with something of permanent interest, as for 
example : Trafalgar, with the naval engagement — The Bay of Fundy, with 
its wonderful tides, etc. Maps should be so taught as to enkindle the ima- 
gination and stir the feelings. (Transference of Interest, page 113.) 

(3) Map-Drawing as Desk Work. — Map-drawing furnishes one of the 
most useful forms of Desk work. This arises from the following considera- 
tions : 

(a) It keeps the hands employed. 

(6) The work done by the pupils in a given time may, by changing 
slates, be brought to a speedy test. 

(c) By this means the teacher, while employed with other classes, can 
cause the pupils constantly to review maps, thus keeping map- 
work already taught, fiesh in the memory. 

(4) Map- Drawing as a means of Education in Geography. — Map-drawing 
is one of the most speedy and effective means of examining the pupils either 



294 OUTLINE METHODS IN SPECIAL SUBJECTS. 

for the purpose of promotion, or for the purpose of testing home work . 
When used as an instrument of examination, map-drawing should not be 
confined to mere physical features and political matters : the animals, 
plants, minerals, &c. of a region, may be as readily indicated on the map, 
as can be gulfs, capes, islands, countries, towns, &c. 

(5) Coast Features. — As in the work of drawing the outline, the pupils 
have already drawn the coast-features, it follows, that these should be 
learned in this connection. Capes, islands, peninsulas, bays, gulfs, etc., are 
a part of the coast-line and should be learned when this element is dealt 
with. 

(6) Surface. — It is impossible to give a clear conception of the structure 
of the surface of a country by mere description, or even by pictures. For 
this part of the work we require raised maps. The raised maps offered for 
sale are rather expensive ; but by means of the ordinary moulding board* 
such maps may be easily made by teacher and pupils. In the work of form- 
ing the sand-maps on the moulding board, the teacher would be greatly 
assisted by having on his desk the "Royal Relief Atlas," published by 
Messrs. Sonnenschein and Allen, London. 

While looking at the sand-map, the pupils should be required to des- 
cribe the position of the great highland regions, give the boundaries of 
the great slopes, etc. In other words, the pupils should be led as far as 
possible to discover the facts for themselves, by examining the map. This 
is true of all map-work, and leads to independent habits of. investigation. 
The best way of fixing these divisions of the surface in the memory, is 
to have the pupils construct them. (Pages 95 and 129. Doing defines 
Ideas.) For this purpose, each should be supplied with a pan and a small 
quantity of putty. A few minutes should be given for examining the large 
map, and then the work should be done entirely from memory. 

The description of a Highland Region should include an enumeration of 
its mountain chains, rivers, and lakes ; and the description of a Lowland 
Region should include an enumeration of its rivers and lakes. Now this is 
the connection in which the names of the mountains, rivers, and lakes 
should be taught, that is, their position should be described with reference 
to natural divisions of the surface, not (at first at least) to the artificial 
divisions of political geography. 

(7) Climate and Productions. — The Climate and Productions naturally 
follow the surface. General views should first be given. (See Guyot's 
Common School Geography). 

*A board 4 x 3 ft. painted blue and swung between two upright pieces will answer 
every purpose. The front edge should be provided with a hinged leg so that the board 
Oiay be presented at any angle to the pupils. 



OUTLINE METHODS IN SPECIAL SUBJECTS. 295 

(8) Political Divisions. — As in the case of other map-work, the political 
divisions should be fixed in the memory by drawing them. 

(9) Great Towns.— When the greatness of a city is the outcome of some 
obvious natural cause, the attention of the pupils should be directed to the 
fact by questions, For example, the city of Para is likely to flourish, as it 
is the sea-port for the produce of the Amazon Basin. Towns should be 
grouped upon their respective rivers and coasts. Coupling what a town is 
noted for with its name, makes the work more interesting and useful. 

13. Political Geography- (i) Interest; how aroused.— The desire of 
the class to enter upon the study of any particular country, should be aroused 
by exhibiting pictures of its striking characteristics, as regards scenery, 
people, animals, plants, great works of art, etc., also by exhibiting speci- 
mens of its productions. The vSolar Camera is of great value to excite in- 
terest in the study of a country. (Secures unity of interest and prepar- 
atory adjustment, pp. 60-61.) 

A few words as to the history of the people, citing especially any great 
historical events will prove interesting. 

(2) Surface. — The nature of the surface of the country should, as far as 
possible, be elicited from the pupils. This eliciting is now perfectly 
reasonable, because the pupils have only to remember what general division 
of the surface the country is a part of. The teacher supplements at his 
discretion what can be drawn from the pupils. 

(3) Climate and Productions. — In a similar manner, the climate and 
productions of the country should be elicited. A little information by way 
of supplement, is all that is required. 

(4) Occupation of the People. — The occupation of the people should be 
derived, as far as possible, from a consideration of the natural productions, 
etc. 

(5) Commerce ; Great Cities. — Foreign or Domestic Exports, Imports, 
Commercial Towns— Routes of Commerce. In learning about the great 
cities, good pictures will be helpful in many ways. 

(6) Journeys.— These should be made very interesting by pictures.— 
Solar Camera of great value. 

(7) Comparison. — Comparison should be carried out in every subject. 
The continents drawn on the same scale should be always before the pupils. 
The pupils should be constantly exercised upon these, and also upon the 
chart, showing the comparative volume of trade of different countries, the 
comparative wealth, the comparative population, military strength, etc. 
The teacher can easily form such charts by enlarging the diagrams given in 



296 OUTLINE METHODS IN SPECIAL SUBJECTS. 

some family atlas of recent date. (Composes the most perfect fonr «f 

attention, pages 58 and 59.) 

Note. — The following books are recommended for teachers : — Geikle's 
Teaching of Geography, MacMillan & Co. ; Dr. King's, Aids and Methods 
in Geography, Lee and Sheppard, Boston. 

II. Arithmetic. 

Remarks on General Principles of the Method. — it is strictly in line with 

psychology : 

1. It begins with the presentative and advances to the representative. 
Number is, of course, pure abstraction ; in the method here outlined, the 
pupil begins not only with concretes, but with intuitions that make them 
concrete. That is, the arrangement of each number- form is an analyzed one 
which makes relations distinct. Present seven things in a row, say, and 
the resulting idea is vague j it will have to be made definite by analysis and 
synthesis. Symmetrical arrangement, with different intuitions of the same 
form, leads to clear perception, and so aids the higher mental processes. 

2. It follows, that this actual partition and re-combination of things call 
out gradually the analytic and synthetic functions of mind. 

3. Since number is not so much a relation as a relating, the method gives 
the pupil a clear idea of number — an idea which in the highest mathematics 
is not to be corrected, but only to be made explicit. 

4. The varying forms give both novelty and distinctness. The child 
sees that the relation is the same although the form is different. He is 
abstracting, and abstracting in the natural psychological way, simply and 
unconsciously. He is learning to think relations from seeing them. 

5. Giving the symbol as soon as the idea is mastered, is justified by 
common sense as well as by psychology. There is variety and therefore 
interest ; dealing with the objects too long, becomes monotonous ; 
symbols open up a new field. There comes also a feeling of power, of 
advance, etc. There is economy of time and power for both teacher and 
pupil. It affords means of self-instruction. In short, the justification is on 
the same ground for the child as for the race. The human mind always 
economizes by means of some condensed symbol as soon as the idea is 
familiar. It is worse than useless to be always going back to beginnings j 
this would render progress extremely slow. 



OUTLINE METHODS IN SPECIAL SUBJECTS. 297 

GENERAL SUGGESTIONS. 

1. Arithmetic is taught for the sake of (a) its value in discipline, {6) its 
vaTue as knowledge, i.e., its utility in the affairs of life. 

2. To secure these values as thoroughly as possible, all arithmetical 
study is to be a training in thinking ; all merely mechanical work is to be 
banished. There must indeed be mechanical drill, but this must be founded 
on intuitions. 

3. For this training in thinking, as well as for acquiring skill, systematic 
training in Mental Arithmetic, from first to last, is absolutely indispensable. 
Indeed, so far as Arithmetic is concerned, the principal work of the teacher 
in the Public School is to practise the children in Mental Arithmetic. 

4. At each and every stage Mental Arithmetic must precede, and lead 
up to Written Arithmetic. As compared with the effectiveness of written 
Aritmetic alone, it may be fairly said that with the systematic teaching of 

Mental Arithmetic, twice the Knowledge and twice the Power will 
be acquired in a given time. 

5. In mental work, rapidity, correct language, and logical order of 
thought and statement must be constantly aimed at. 

6. In mental Arithmetic it is desirable that the teacher should follow the 
sequence of some book. Otherwise the ' ' course " is likely to be without logi- 
cal method ; disconnected problems are of but little use in mental training. 
At the outset, children need no book ; when they have advanced to division, 
and its applications, they may prepare assigned lessons in some text-book. 
But a book supplies only type- questions ; many similar questions should be 
framed by teacher and pupils. 

7. In Mental Arithmetic there should be frequent written -examinations. 

8. Good counters are cubes (black and white) with faces a centimetre 
(about % inch) square ; ten of them are represented by a rectangular prism 
(units, black and white alternately,) which makes a convenient ten-unit. 
For making the number-forms, a blackboard may be used having holes 
bored two inches apart in horizontal and vertical lines. With this are 100 
white (wood or bone) buttons with short stems for inserting in the holes. 
The number forms can be built up, for teaching, or copying by the pupils, 

A. — First Stage. — The Numbers One to Five. 

I. The numbers 1 to 5, inclusive, taught intuitively by Number-Forms 
and by counting — these "forms" being presented through (a) dots or 



298 OUTLINE METHODS IN SPECIAL SUBJECTS. 

points on blackboard, slate, etc., (b) arrangement of balls of abacus, (c) 
arrangement of cubes, etc., used as counters. Number- forms are to be 
used because the intuition of a number of objects in a group is clear and 
comparatively easy if there is a symmetrical arrangement ; e.g., the per- 
ception and ultimate conception of five are easier from this arrangement 



1 than from this 



2. It will be found useful to run over the number forms from one to 
eight, or even ten, to give a general idea of the numbers represented ; then 
begin to make these ideas definite making 1 — 5 the first stage. It is not 
necessary to spend time, first of all, in learning to count. That 5, e.g., 
follows 4, and precedes 6, is seen from the intuitions, and but little, if any 
formal drill in counting is necessary. 

3. From principles which have already been set forth, it will be well, after 
reasonable drill on one form, to make other presentations of a 

• • • • _ • 

Number Form, e.g., of five : — ••• • • - •• 

4. Practice is to be had in all the combinations of the several numbers 
(see table bdow), first, the additions, then the subtractions, etc. ; and every 
number is to be mastered before the next number is taken up. This means 
(a) the addition of pairs of numbers, by Number Forms in various ways 
(see above), e.g., (b) subtraction or the resolution of numbers into pairs by 
similar means, (c) the multiplication and division (exact) of pairs, as e.g., 
three times two are six ; the twos in six are three. 

Note. — (c) May be left till the combinations from 1 to 10 are learne 1. 
Practice in counting backward and forward. 

5. Of course, this includes practice in number-forms, on board, slate, etc. 



• • • 

For example : — • = • 



• • • I 

= • etc. 

• • • I 



6. Give the figure (symbol) as soon as an idea of a number is clearly 

grasped. 

7. When sufficient practice has been had with blocks, dots, etc., give 
practical problems, for example : Charlie paid one cent for a pencil, and 
four cents for an orange, how much did he spend ? etc., etc. When drilling 
on addition, let the practical problems be in addition ; when in sub- 
traction, let the practical problems illustrate subtraction. Then, problems 



OUTLINE METHODS IN SPECIAL SUBJECTS. 299 

illustrating both operations. So with multiplication and division. By 
using the number-forms the operation can be seen, and this leads to under- 
standing. 

8. There should be exercises in rapid mental work, e.g., 5-14-2-1 + 3 
- 2, etc. 

9. Have practice in the corresponding written (word and symbol) exer- 
cises as soon as the children have mastered the mental process. 



• I • 
For example : — • 

• I • 



• : in words, two and three are five ; in 



symbols, 2 + 3 = 5. 

B. — Second Stage. — Numbers Six to Ten. 

The numbers 6 to 10, inclusive, to be taught intuitively, all the steps 
given in the first stage being followed. This includes especially 

(1) Practice in the a.ldition of two numbers whose sum is not greater than 
ten ; see table given below. Practical problems as before. 

(2) Subtraction. Practical problems. 

(3) The multiplication and division of numbers within the above-named 
limits. This practice means 

(a) The multiplication table of numbers from 1 to 10 ; this supposes (as 
before) much " drill," but drill grounded on intuitions. 

(b) Division of the products obtained in (a) by an abstract divisor ; (6) 
division in the sense of distribution, the converse of the operation in (a) : in 
(a) the factors are given and the product is to be found ; in {b) the product 
is given and the factors are to be found. It cannot be too often repeated 
that these processes are to be rendered visible — there must be intuitions 
through number-pictures. 

(c) Measurement of the products of the multiplication table, i.e., division 
in the sense of being contained in ; e.g., 2 is contained in 4, 6, 8, etc. 

(4) Practice in the corresponding written exercises as soon as the children 
have mastered the processes mentally. Practice, also, in solving and in 
constructing practical problems. 

(5) After ten has been learned, the tens may be run over : twen-ty, 
thir-ty, for-ty, etc. Then, 5 tens =4 tens+ 1 ten, =3 tens + 2 tens, etc., etc. 

The following table, which exhibits all combinations of number from 1 
to 20, shews substantially the work to be done in these two stages, and is 
the basis of all combinations. 



3°<> 



OUTLINE METHODS IN SPECIAL SUBJECTS. 



C. — Third Stage. — Numbers from One to Twenty. 
i. Table of Combinations on Numbers from i to 20. 



1 


% 


3 


4 


5 


6 


T 


8 


9 


I 


1 + 1 


2+1 


3+i 


4 + 1 


5 + i 


6+1 


7 + i 


8 + 1 








2+2 


3 + 2 


4 + 2 


5 + 2 


6 + 2 


7 + 2 


11 




1 + 2 






3 + 3 


4+3 


5 + 3 


6 + 3 




12 




i + 3 


2 + 3 






4 + 4 


5 + 4 


IO+I 




13 




i+4 


2 + 4 


3 + 4 






9 + 2 


10+2 




14 




i + 5 


2 + 5 


3 + 5 


4+5 


8 + 3 


9 + 3 


10 + 3 




15 




1 + 6 


2 + 6 


3 + 6 


7 + 4 


8 + 4 


9 + 4 


10+4 




16 




i + 7 


2 + 7 


6 + 5 


7 + 5 


8 + 5 


9 + 5 


10+5 




IT 




1+8 




6 + 6 


7 + 6 


8 + 6 


9 + 6 


10 + 6 




18 




5 + 6 






7 + 7 


8 + 7 


9 + 7 


10+7 




19 


4 + 7 


5 + 7 


6 + 7 






8 + 8 


9+8 


10 + 8 




3-r8 


4 + 8 


5 + 8 


6 + 8 


7 + 8 






9 + 9 


10+9 


2 + 9 


3 + 9 


4 + 9 


5 + 9 


6 + 9 


7 + 9 


8 + 9 






1 + 10 


2+10 


3 + 10 


4+10 


5 + 10 


6 + 10 


7 + 10 


8+10 


9+10 



10 

9+1 

8 + 2 

7 + 3 
6 + 4 

5 + 5 

4+6 

3 + 7 
2 + 8 

i+9 
SO 



10+ 10 



2. The upper part of the table gives the combinations of the numbers to 
ten iuclusive ; the lower part, the combinations of the numbers from 11 to 
20 inclusive. The ways of forming five are. — 4 and 1, 3 and 2, besides the 
related forms, 2 and 3, and 1 and 4. In all, there are 55 different combin- 
ations, and no more. The other combinations, forty-five in all, are simply 
different ways of expressing some of these as e.g., 3 and 2 are 5, may be also 
expressed by 2 and 3 are 5. In the table, the equivalent forms are separated 
from the fundamental forms by wider spacing, e.g., I + 2, so separated 

from 2+1. 

The plan to be followed is the same as that of the preceding stages. 
Number forms of all the numbers from II to 20 are to be given by means of 
balls on Frame, dots, etc. ; and by means of these the partitions and recom- 
binations are to be shown. Take, e.g., the number eleven. From the 
table, the different combinations for eleven are 10 and 1, 9 and 2, 8 and 3. 
7 and 4, 6 and 5. Then with the following number-form for eleven, all the 
unit-forms of which are now familiar to the child, we have : 



♦ ♦ 
♦ 

♦ ♦ 



♦♦♦ 
♦♦♦ 



♦ ♦ 
= ♦ 

♦ ♦ 



♦♦ 
♦♦ 



IO+l = II 



♦ ♦ 
= ♦ 

♦ ♦ 



+ 2 = 



♦♦♦ 1 ♦ ♦ 

♦ 
♦♦♦!♦ ♦ 



♦ 



♦ 



♦ 
= ♦ 
♦ ♦ ♦ 



♦ I ♦ ♦ 



+ 3 = 



7 +4 



6 +5 



OUTLINE METHODS IN SPECIAL SUBJECTS. JOI 

AH these forms may be made upon the ball form, by simply moving 
some of the balls of the original figure, so that, as in all the preceding forms, 
pupils see that these five forms are identical. And similarly with the other 
forms up to 20. Making these partitions and combinations, and expressing 
the process in words and figures, afford good self-instruction work. 

3. (a) This table includes the usual forms : — I plus 2, 3, 4, etc. ; 2 plus 
1, 2, 3, etc. ; 3 plus 1, 2, 3, etc. If thoroughly learned from intuitive- 
teaching, it will prove a solid foundation for all primary work. 

(b) It is applicable to the higher combinations of numbers, e.g., take 
those of 5 ; 4+1 leads to 14+ 1, 24+1, 34+1, etc. ; 2 + 3 leads to 21 + 3, 
2 + 23, 234-3, 24 -r 3, etc. 

D. — Fourth Stage. 

1. The genesis of numbers from 1 to 100, inclusive — the method of intui- 
tion being followed as in the preceding stages. 

2. Make the pupil familiar with combinations of tens as units ; e.g. , as in 
the combination of five, 4+1 = 5, so, 4 tens+ 1 ten = 5 tens ; this by visible 
and tangible objects. Call attention to the fact that thirty = three-ty, is 3 
tens ; forty is four-ty, i.e., 4 tens, etc. In fact, practice on the tens (using 
intuitions) may be had as soon as ten is learned. 

3. Teach the intermediate numbers, e.g., 21=2 tens+ I ; 22 = 2 tens + 2, 
etc.; 31 = 3 tens + I, 32=3 tens+2. Give practice in counting backwards 
and forwards by 2's, by 3's, etc. : 2, 4, 6, etc. ; 3, 6, 9, etc. Give notation 
and numeration to 100, inclusive. Throughout, keep prominent the com- 
posite character of the numbers, viz. tens and units ; e.g., 35 = 3 tens 
and 5 units. 

4. Give practice in the addition of a number of one digit to one of two 
digits ; the higher number to be exhibited as so many tens and units. Form 
series of numbers, e.g., give two or three terms, and have the children con- 
tinue the series, 12, 14, 16, etc. ; 9, 12, 15, etc. ; 21, 25, 29, etc. 

5. Practice in the subtraction of a number of one digit from one of two 
digits. As in the preceding exercises, intuition is necessary, especially in 
such cases as 43 + 7, 62 + 9, etc. 

6. Practice the multiplication table till the pupils have obtained a ready 
knowledge of it, but, in ez'ery instance give by intuition a clear insight into 
the meaning of each combination ; e.g., the meaning of 4 times 7 is 28, must 

Note. -Call attention to the fact that thirteen is three-teen, i.e., 3 and ten ; fourteen, 
4 and ten etc. The pupil may run over the numbers from 11 to 20, to get a general idea 
of them, before proceeding to a definite knowledge of them by analysis and synthesis. 



302 OUTLINE METHODS IN SPECIAL SUBJECTS. 

be made perfectly clear by means of the '-' ball-frame," etc. But this cleai 
insight being had, drill till the children can give the combination with 
scarcely an effort of thought. The pupil may be taught to construct and 
practice the table for himself, by means of the balls, the counters, dots, 

etc. : eg., 

• • • one 3 

• • • two 3's 

• • • three 3's 

etc., etc. 

In written work the order should be (a) multiplication by a number of 
one digit ; (b) do., by 10 ; (c) do., by a multiple of 10 (d) do., by a number 
formed of units and tens. 

7. Give practice in the division of the products of the multiplication (as 
in Stage B, r b), (a), by an abstract divisor, i.e., division in the sense of 
distribution ; and (b), measurement of the products, i.e., division in the 
sense of being contained in. In written work the order will be (a), division 
by a number of one digit ; (b) by 10 ; (c), by a multiple of 10 ; (d), by a 
number consisting of tens and units. 

8. The children are now prepared to deal formally with (a), the factors 
of a number ; (b), the factors common to two or more numbers ; (c), the 
G. C. F., of do. ; and {a) with the multiples of a number ; (b), a multiple 
of two or more numbers, and {c), the L. C. M. of two or more numbers. 

The course of work above exhibited shews, in the main, the whole course 
of instruction in elementary arithmetic, and constitutes the basis of all 
subsequent work. Unless, therefore, the work outlined has been thoroughly 
mastered, subsequent progress will be uncertain and unsatisfactory. 

E. — Fifth Stage. 

This stage is mainly a continuation of the preceding stages, which cover 
the ground of the first seven sections of Mental Arithmetic, Pt. I. Details, 
therefore, are not necessary. A few hints may be noted. 

1. Children must understand the value of numbers before they use them. 
This is the fundamental principle in the preceding stages, in which intuition 
has the first place. In Stage D, when intuition is no longer expedient, the 
number should be clearly analyzed into hundreds, tens and units, etc 

2. In written work with large numbers — i.e., numbers too large for 
mental operations, note the following points : — 

Note.— If the intuition-method has been intelligently followed, most children will 
understand the reason of " borrowing and carrying ; " but time need not be wasted and 
the brighter pupils kept back till the " dull " members of the class master the rationale. 



OUTLINE METHODS IN SPECIAL SUBJECTS. 303 

[a) Avoid working with very large numbers. Do not waste nervous force 
in drudgery. Long mechanical operations, especially of multiplication 
with large factors, have little practical value. Who needs to multiply 
millions by millions, or hundreds of thousands by hundreds of thousands ? 
Instead of questions involving hosts of figures, give many questions of 
moderate length, and aim at accuracy and rapidity. 

(6) To prevent mere mechanical drudgery, and to awaken the interest 
which grows out of intelligence, every process must be thoroughly explained. 

(c) As already implied, in mental work, insist on good language and 
logical and concise order of statement ; in written work aim at neatness, 
accuracy, rapidity. 

(d) Some of the tables of weights, measures and money, will of course be 
mastered, and use made of them in " Practical Problems." 

P. — Sixth Stage. — Fractional Arithmetic. 
I. Vulgar ; II. Decimal. 

1. Begin with the now familiar idea of the division of a NUMBER into 
equal parts, the underlying principal in all teaching of fractions. Show, 
eg., that to divide 6 by 3 is to obtain one of the 3 equal parts (2) that com- 
pose 6. Show that " to take one-third of 6 " is the same as " to divide 6 
by three ; " there is a change of name, but no change of idea or of opera- 
tion. Give practice in finding £, \, \, \, etc., of a number. (See page 211). 

2. Lead to the facts that a number has two halves, three thirds, four 
fourths, etc. 

3. The children have already learned that twice one unit of any kind, is 
two units of the same kind ; three times one unit of any kind is three units 
of the same kind, etc. They are, therefore, now prepared to find $, f , |, 
etc., of a number ; e.g., they find <?«<f-third or 6 to be 2, and therefore two- 
thirds of 6 to be 4. 

4. Lead to the fact that thus to take [e.g. ) £ of a nnmber is the same as to 
take one-quarter of three times the number, i.e., to divide 3 times the num- 
ber by 4. Lead to the facts 3 lbs. divided by 4 is 12 ounces, $3-5-4 = 75 
cents, etc. 

5. Show that \ of a number = | of it = -| of it ; that | of a number = \ 
of it, etc. ; and that % of a number = \ of it, etc., e.g., \ of 24 = 12 = \ of 
24 = % of 24. 

Notk. — Vulgar fractions form a principal subject in Mental Arithmetic. Both from 
common experience and from operations in the preceding stages, the children have 
become familiar with some of the ideas and nomenclature of Fractional Arithmetic The 
formal and systematic instruction is now to begin. Give the notation as soon as the con- 
ceptions are clearly gained. 



3©4 OUTLINE METHODS IN SPECIAL SUBJECTS. 

6. Now proceed to show that not only a number of things, but also a 
single thing may be divided into equal parts. Base the instruction on 
intuitions, by a divided line, rectangle, or other concrete object. Apply 
the ideas developed in 2, 3, 4, 5, above. 

7. Show (a) how to change a whole number into the form of a 
fraction ; [b) how inexact division gives rise to a mixed number ; and (c) 
conversely how a mixed number may be changed into an indicated division, 
i.e., an "improper fraction ;" (d) how the quotient of one number divided 
by another equals the sum of the quotients of the parts of the dividend by 

the divisor, as e.g., -Z = = — + _ etc., and conversely. 

4 4 4 4. 

8. Use ideas of 5, above, to show how to change fractions with different 
denominators into fractions having a " common denominator." 

9. Addition and subtraction. 

10. Multiplication and division. 

For methods and type-questions, see chapter on fractions in McLtliaris Public 
School Mental A rithmetic. 

II. — Decimal Fractions. 

The Teaching in Decimal Fractions follows the order observed in vulgar 
fractions, so that every " rule " in decimals finds its explanation and demon- 
stration in the corresponding rule in vulgar fractions. Guard against rule- 
of- thumb work ; explain every process. 

G.— Seventh Stage. 
Application of the foregoing to analysis and to " Commercial Arithmetic." 
The unitary method, which has been followed in the simple analysis of 
the previous stages, is to be followed here. It is to be applied to 

1. Solution of " Rule of Three," problems. 

2. " Simple Interest. 

3. " Profit and loss in all its "cases." 

4. Other Percentage Problems. 

6. Proportional parts and Partnership. 

Note. — While special stress has been laid on the necessity of beginning with intuitions 
for the acquisition and development of the first conceptions in the several stages, it is very 
desirable that the pupils should pass as soon as possible to the abstract and the general. 

For method and type-questions under these heads see McLellan's Higher Mental 
Arithmetic. 

Note. — In this stage the fundamental principles of rati* and proportion, with applica- 
tions, may be given. 



Ot/TLINE METHODS IN SPECIAL SUBJECTS. 305 

HI. PEIMARY EEADING. 

Methods. — The problem of teaching to read is doubtless a difficult one ; 
but some writers greatly exaggerate the difficulty. It requires no great learn- 
ing or skill to frame a strong " indictment" against the English alphabet. 
It is safe to say that the actual difficulty is inversely as the strength of the 
indictment. It is usual to name four methods of teaching primary reading, 
viz.: the alphabetic, the phonetic, the word, and the phonic. As the alpha- 
betic method is now but little used and the phonetic requires a special alpha- 
bet, we may confine our notes to the word and the phonic methods. 

Word method- — The method, as practised, begins with teaching words 
as wholes : it connects familiar spoken words with their written or printed 
forms, and passes sooner or later — generally not soon enough — to phonic 
analysis ; that is, the spoken word is resolved into its separate sounds, and 
these are associated with the letters which represent them in the written or 
printed word. The so-called word-method is, therefore, a combination of 
the word method and the phonic method. 

1. It claims to be analytic, proceeding from " whole to part." It is un- 
doubtedly analytic when it introduces phonic analysis of words, and con- 
nects the sound-elements with the letters which represent them. As pure 
word-method it is analytic — proceeding from whole to part, — only in the 
fact that the child's vague idea of sound is made definite by calling his at- 
tention to the sound of the word. The whole that the child starts from is the 
vague idea of sound ; the " part " is the articulate, i.e., the definite sound. 

2. It claims to proceed from the '■ known to the unknown," i.e., from 
the known sound-word (word as spoken) to the unknown form-word — word 
as written or printed. But the word, as a word, is an arbitrary symbol 
having no significance of its own. How can an idea of sound be used to 
assimilate an unassociated idea of form ? The best that can be said is that 
the method awakens some interest by showing the child that written words, 
like spoken, are means of expressing his ideas of things. It is pure assump- 
tion that because the form-word is before the child he knows the word. He 
no more knows the word till he' has made his vague idea definite by analysis, 
than he knows the number ten before he has made his vague idea definite by 
partitions and recombinations of the objects before him. He knows the 
word only through analysis into its element. 

3. The method — as word-method — is mechanical ; there must be a vast 
amount of telling, and a vast amount of guessing. For vague perceptions 
lead to feeble memory. The mind is, therefore, driven to form merely sen- 
suous associations. And thus, when the word-method, as such, is too faith- 

U 



306 OUTLINE METHODS IN SPECIAL SUBJECTS. 

fully followed, the child memorize; whole pages of the " readers" and sim- 
ply recites when he seems to be reading. 

4. This perpetual telling tends to produce a mere passive as opposed to 
an active and energetic habit of mind. He is not taught to use the know- 
ledge acquired yesterday to gain new knowledge to-day ; he does not learn 
with what he has learned ; e.g., yesterday he was told about the word cat, 
to-day he is told about the word mat : yesterday's lesson does not help him 
with to-day's. Is not this a waste of power, a direct violation of "learn 
with what you have learned." 

5. Before the child can gain power to recognize or form new words he 
must unconsciously follow the phonic method. When he comes to a new 
word, it is not a question of using the phonic method, or not using it. He 
cannot form or recognize the new word unless he has learned the sounds of 
its letters from unconscious phonic analysis. 

6. It is only a question, then, whether the child is to be taught the phonic 
method, and so get all the benefits, practical and disciplinary, that flow 
from it ; or whether he shall be left to discover the method for himself. 
If he is left to himself, there must be a great waste of experiences, endless 
corrections of hasty inductions, etc., in order to acquire even moderate 
power of word-recognition, i.e., in order to learn even the mechanical part 
of the art of reading. 

7. In reading, as in all primary work, the child should not be left to his 
own weak powers of analysis and synthesis. There must be exercise of both 
these mental functions before the power of word-recognition is gained, and 
here, as everywhere, it is the business of the teacher to direct the- mental 
activity so that the desired results may be reached with the least waste of 
power. 

The Phonic Method. — The phonic method begins with elements, that 
is, the sounds, or powers of the letters, and then combines them into words. 
It is, therefore, commonly called a "synthetic" method. 

I. It is, in fact, both analytic and synthetic, and may, therefore, be 
rightly called the analytic-synthetic method. The recognition of the sound 
a, or a, is an analytic act. In making the exact sound a, the pupil's atten- 
tion is called to what he has for a long time been doing, and like all atten- 
tion, analyzes ; the result is the definite idea of the sound &. It is here, as 
elsewhere, a mistake to suppose that because the sounds are definite in 
themselves, they are definite to the child. The vague "whole" in this 
case is the undifferentiated mass 0/ sound and corresponding undifferentiated 
ideas of sound — those which he has made led by impulse or imitation, and 



OUTLINE METHODS IN SPECIAL SUBJECTS. 307 

the process of making one out of this mass definite, is one of analysis. There 
is also synthesis in combining the several definite elements into a significant 
word. 

2. The phonic (analytic-synthetic) method best obeys the law of unity of 
attention, "one thing at a time." The child's attention is fixed first upon 
one kind of sensations, the auditory, and then upon the corresponding visual 
sensations. In the word method, attention is divided between the look, the 
sound and the meaning of the word, and in some cases the distraction is 
increased from the attempt to associate the form of the word immediately with 
the "object," (See page 168.) 

3. It has been said that this method is without interest because the iso- 
lated sounds have no meaning. This is pure theory. The forms of letters 
are interesting to children, then why not sounds ? Besides, there is (a) in- 
terest in the teacher's uttering of the sounds, (b) interest in the pupil 's own 
activity in making the sounds ; in elementary education it is scarcely possi- 
ble to over-estimate the interest of the child in what he himself does, (c) 
Intellectual interest arising from the exercise of the analytic function, (d) 
Interest from the sense of new power, or capacity, and this is of the 
highest value. Left to his own hap-hazard inductions from the word- 
method, the pupil must spend a long time before gaining the power and 
sense of power, to recognize new words, (e) It ought to be remarked that 
the child is not kept dwelling on the isolated sounds till all are learned ; as 
soon as he has mastered a few sounds, and the letters which represent them, 
he is set to work to use his knowledge. In the very first lesson he learns 
&, and t, and c, and experiences the thrill of discovery when, combining 
these, he recognizes the sound cat, with which he has long been familiar. 

4. The objection has been made to this method that it is impossible to 
isolate the sounds of the consonants ; that in the attempt to do so they are 
partially vocalized, and so mislead the children ; e.g., in isolating the sound 
of c in cat, it becomes kS. To this objection the answer is : (a) In the case 
of a final consonant there is a slight vocalization, e.g., the t in cat. In the 
case of an initial consonant the thing is to get the pupil to place his vocal 
organs in proper position for articulating the consonant-sound. This is 
secured even if there is a slight vowel-element. Besides (b) It is not ne- 
cessary to isolate the initial consonants ; with right teaching, the child is 
led to get for himself the idea of the sound, and the power to form it. 

5. The difficulty arising from the same letter standing for several sounds 
is much magnified. Besides, this is not peculiar to the phonic method. The 
word method proceeds to analysis, and, therefore, has to face the difficulty. 



308 OUTLINE METHODS IN SPECIAL SUBJECTS. 

The word method assumes that the child will get the sounds of the letters by 
unconscious inductions ; well, learning the different circumstances under 
which the same letter stands for different sounds, is not nearly so difficult ; 
e.g., the child has learned, say, the " hard" sound of c (as in cat), has he to 
make a very wide induction in order to know where it has the " soft " sound? 
Again, his experience is available for many cases. Suppose he has learned 
the siblant s, and comes to the sentence, " the cat is on the mat," he is not 
likely to pronounce is "iss ;" if he does so at first, he speedily corrects him- 
self: nor does he trouble himself about the "inconsistency" over which 
the philosopher grows so eloquent. 

6. The analytic-synthetic (phonic) method is, therefore, psychologically 
justifiable. Indeed, it stands to reason that any method which quickly puts 
into the hands of the child the power of recognizing and constructing new 
words, is better than one that leaves him wholly dependent on memory and 
vague inductions from past experiences. 

7. Finally, the method has stood the test of experience. It has been used 
with excellent results in the Ontario Normal Schools. It is used in the 
Toronto schools where the results may challenge comparison with those of 
any other schools or any other methods. 

Suggestions. 

1. The teacher should remember that much drill is necessary, no matter 
which method of teaching reading may be used. The aim is to gain ability 
to recognize and pronounce words without conscious mental effort. When 
a child has mastered the multiplication table the symbols 6x8 suggest the 
result without mental effort ; so, in primary reading, the association of 
sounds and symbols must be perfect. There must be no stopping to think, e.g., 
what sound any letter in band stands for, or what sound they all together 
represent. So long as any such thinking has to be done, there cannot be 
good reading ; the mechanical association between sign and sound is not 
complete, and the reader has to take time and expend energy in re-making 
such association. So long as this is the case there cannot be expressive 
reading. 

2. From the beginning, writing is to go with reading. Imitating the 
teacher, the pupils utter the short sound of a (as in cat) ; the teacher makes 
the letter and drills to associate sound with sign ; the pupils then write the 
letter on blackboard, etc. 

3. The names and sounds of the letters are not to be given together. One 
thing at a time is again the order. Indeed, it will not, in general, be neces- 
sary to give formal lessons on the names. These are learned incidentally • 



OUTLINE METHODS IN SPECIAL SUBJECTS. 309 

and it will be found that by the time the Second Part of First Book (On- 
tario Readers) is reached, the pupils know the names of the letters. 

4. Transition from script to print will be made with little effort. If the 
blackboard and tablets (or primers) are used together from the start the 
print-form will come with the script-form. When a word is written on the 
blackboard, have children point it out on the tablet. Show the word on 
tablet and have children write it, etc. 

5. Pupils must be taught, from the first, to read every sentence with ex- 
pression. As already intimated, perfect familiarity with the words of the 
se?itencc is necessary. There should be many exercises involving questions 
and answers. With simple devices the thoughtful teacher will lead the 
children to read every sentence with the right expression. 

6. Instead of using only ready-made pictures (in tablets, etc), the 
teacher should, as far as possible, make blackboard drawings of objects. 
This increases interest of class. 

7. Diacritical works are not necessary ; the different sounds of a letter 
are learned from comparison of different forms, e.g., cap, cape ; mat, mate ; 
fat, fate, eta Of course, there are some words that must be taught as 
wholes. 

8. It is unnecessary — rather it is unwise — to associate objects with written 
words. The order is : the idea, the spoken word, the written word. That 
is, perfect association is formed between the idea and its spoken word, then 
perfect association between the spoken word and its written form. To at- 
tempt to form a new and direct association between the idea (object) and 
the form is to violate the law of unity of attention. 

Practical Suggestions — The following suggestions may be useful to 
the young teacher : 

1. Choose some element, say at, as starting point. Give sound of a in 
at, and have children repeat the sound individually and collectively. Make 
the letter on blackboard and have children make it on slates, etc., helping 
them to easiest way of doing this. Drill to associate sound and sign : 
Make letter and call for sound, make sound and call for letter. Proceed 
similarly with the letter t. Then sound elements a, t, at first slowly, then 
more rapidly, till the word at is produced. Illustrate meaning of at (at the 
door, etc.) Have pupils write word. 

2. Show picture of a cat. Children pronounce the word cat ; then slowly 
so as to separate into two sound-elements (a known and an unknown) repre- 
sented by c-at. Write word cat on blackboard. Call attention to the parts : 
Sound afi (or what does at say, etc) Sound the whole word? Then 



3IO OUTLINE METHODS IN SPECIAL SUBJECTS. 

sound the part c ? (or sound the letter that makes at into cat ?) Have chil- 
dren make the letter. Drill to associate form and sound. For desk-work 
have the children write the several letters and the word, on properly ruled 
slates or paper, giving directions as to how the letters can be best formed. 
In a similar way, proceed with the words bat, cat, fat, hat, mat, nat, pat, 
rat, sat, vat. 

3. Constant exercise in using acquired knowledge to gain new words, 
which are significant, or which can easily be made significant, to the child. 
For example : (1) the teacher writes the word pan, and asks the pupil to 
pronounce it. (2) He pronounces the word fan (or gives picture of the thing) 
and has them write the word. (3) He leaves them to discover new words^ 
e.g., cap. In such way may be treated such words as tan, tap, cab, can, 
cap, fan, has, ham, man, map, nap, ran, ram, rap, sam, sap, van, trap, 
strap, bran, ant, pant, grant, span. 

4. Similarly, the short sounds of the other vowels can be taught : bit, fit, 
hit, mit, pit, sit, or in, bin, fin, pin, sin, tin, spin ; cot, hot, not, pot, or 
fop, hop, lop, mop, sop, top ; bet, met, net, pet, set, or ben, men, ten, pen ; 
but, cut, hut, nut, rut, or bun, fun, sun, run, etc., etc. 

5. The other consonants may be taught as in (2) and (3) — ba-d, ha-d, 
pa-d, po-cl, ho-d, so-d, bi-d, hi-d, di-d, d-in, din-ner, etc., ba-g, na-g, ra-g, 
bo-g, fo-g, do-g, g-ad, g-ap, g-un, big, pig, gig, etc.; 1-ad, b-ag, 1-ap, let, 
let-ter, etc. ; and, sand, band, land, stand, etc. Of course the teacher will 
not confine himself to monosyllables. He will introduce into his simple 
sentences and "stories" longer significant words, e.g., dinner, dipper, dig- 
ger, dimmer, dagger, sadder, sinner, summer, softer, butter, bitter, better, 
pepper, supper, rub-ber, rob-ber, red-der, lad-der, man-ner, ban-ner, pic- 
nic, sis-ter, riv-er, nev-er, cutter butter, etc. 

6. As already intimated the long vowels can be taught inductively ; the 
pupils will soon see that the final e is silent and makes the medial vowel 
long : bat, bate ; mat, mate, etc. ; bate, fate, mate, pate, rate, date, gate, 
hate, late, grate, skate, slate, grated, plated ; cane, lane, mane, sane, vane ; 
fade, jade, made, glade, blade ; came, same, tame, lame, name, blame, 
fame, dame, game, flame, etc. Fin, fine ; din, dine, etc.; fine, line, mine, 
nine, pine, vine, wine ; time, grime, lime, crime, clime ; hide, ride, tide, 
side, glide, pride, etc. Mole, stole, dole, bole, sole, poke, woke, broke, 
yoke, spoke ; bone, tone, lone, alone, crone, drone, cone. Met, 
mete ; pet, pete ; cede, re-cede, im-pede. Tun, tune, cub, cube, etc. ; 
mute, lute, fume, tune, clue, blue; latest, plated, skating, etc.; biting, 
glided, etc. ; con-sume, vol-ume ; mop-ing, grop-ing, sloped, com-plete, 
severe j strong, long, etc., etc. 



OUTLINE METHODS IN SPECIAL SUBJECTS. 311 

7. It will be convenient to have for use a large number of words, classi- 
fied according to similarity of vowel sounds. For example, other ways of 
representing long vowel sounds : 

Long a — o-i, as : ail, bail, fail, jail, mail, nail, pail, rail, sail, wail, fail, 
frail, snail, trail, etc.; aim, air, hair, chair, pair, lair, re-pair, rain, pain, 
gain, plain, grain, ex-plain, etc. 

Ay — As : bay, day, gay, hay, jay, lay, may, nay, pay, play, ray, say, 
way, pray, dray, gray, a-way, de-lay, pray-er, Sun-day. Also a few in 
ey : prey, they, obey, con-vey, etc. 

Long e — e, doubled (e e), as : bee, fee, lee, see, thee, flee, free, tree, 
three, feed, deed, need, seed, deem, seem, queen, seen, be-tweeu, six-teen, 
etc., etc. 

In the combination ea, as : lea, pea, sea, tea, flea, plea, leaf, sheaf, mead, 
read, beak, leak, heap, leap, each, peach, teach, reach, etc., etc. 

Long — ow, as : bow, low, mow, sow, tow, blow, flow, glow, grow, etc. 

Oa, as : oats, oak, oar, roar, soar, foal, goal, shoal, foam, roam, loam, 
loan, moan, groan, hoarse, ap-proach, etc. 

The oi sounds as : oil, boil, coil, foil, soil, toil, broil, spoil, noise, voice, 
con-join, appoint, etc. Some in oy, as : boy, coy, joy, toy, annoy, destroy, 
oyster. 

And so proceed with other analogous sounds. * 

The teacher should keep in mind that in teaching primary reading he is 
to put his pupils as quickly as possible in possession of the power of word- 
recognition, ability to pronounce words without a conscious effort of 
thought so that the pupils may quickly pass to interesting reading matter. 
But of course he is not to drill simply on isolated words till the forty sounds 
and their representatives are learned. He should have the words as fast as 
learned used in sentences and easy stories. It requires skill to form 
these properly. No lesson requires more careful preparation by the teacher 
than the primary reading lesson. 

Let no teacher follow any plan which takes from four to eight months 
to learn by the " word-method," " some two hundred words." The school 
life of the child is too short and too precious to be thus frittered away. By 
following the analytic-synthetic (phonic) method his pupils in " from four 
to eight months" will have acquired the ability to pronounce at once any or- 
dinary English word, that is, The main difficulty in primary reading 
will have been mastered. 

* In making classifications of words, and framing sentences, &c., the teacher will get 
much help from Meiklejohn's " English Method of Teaching to Read," Macmillan & Co. 
To help in sentence and story-reading, the teacher should have different primary reader*. 



312 OUTLINE METHODS IN SPECIAL SUBJECTS. 

IV.— TRAINING OF LANGUAGE POWER. 

I- General Principles. — Importance of language ha« been dwelt on 
pp. 107, 184, 215. 

1. The instrument for expression of thought. 

2. The instrument of thinking process. 

(a) It records thoughts. (6) It shortens the thinking process, (c) It 
analyzes thought, (d) It reacts on thinking. 

3. Language, is, therefore, the complement of reason — that without 
which reason would not and could not be what it. is. Progress in thought, 
therefore universal progress, depends upon language. 

4. It follows that language is the test and the condition of the cultivation 
of reason : 

(a) In perception, there must be for the percepts, words; (6) In judg- 
ment (the thinking of relations), there must be propositions, (c) In relat- 
ing judgments (reasoning, etc. ) there must be connected propositions, or 
discourse. 

5. Hence every lesson should be a lesson in language, (a) 

Power of expression is test of thinking ; clear expression means clear 
thought, (b) Disconnected (occasional) "language lessons " are useful but 
not sufficient, (c) Reproduction in oral and written language indispensable. 
(d) Hence mistake of having large classes especially in primary work. 

II- Method in Outline . — There may be considered : I. Indirect Influ- 
ences ; 2. Reproduction ; 3. Original Work. 

1. Indirect Influences. — The teacher should: 

(1) Use Correct Forms of Speech. Child, a creature of imitation. Out- 
side influences form habits of incorrect speech : school-room influences 
should correct bad habits of speech, and form good habits. In all ques- 
tioning, exposition, stories, narratives by the teacher, there should be (a) 
good grammar, (6) correct pronunciation, (c) educated accent, or cadences 
of voice, which are " the commentary of the emotions on the propositions 
of the intellect." 

(2) Insist on Correct Forms. No imperfect answer to be accepted. Blun- 
ders in grammar, slovenly ennunciation, fragmentary speech, not to be tol- 
erated in either teacher or pupil. 

(3) Study Correct Forms. Teachers should study con amore the best 
writers. Pupils should have abundant reading of such authors ; the scrappy 
lessons of the ordinary reading book are totally insufficient. To become 
good readers, and good users of English speech and lovers of English lit- 



OUTLINE METHODS IN SPECIAL SUBJECTS. 313 

erature, they must read and study good literature; There ought to be 
much supplementary reading in every school. There is not half enough 
practice in reading in any school class, and the power to read well and love 
for good literature will not be developed without libraries of choice liter- 
ature.* 

(4) Exercise in Correcting Faculty Forms. There should be practice irt 
correcting prevailing errors of speech. Pay no attention to the nonsense 
poured out against the practice of correcting " false syntax." There is no 
need, however, to imagine incorrect forms. There is plenty of false syntax 
in every-day speech and writing, and habits of right speaking must come 
from correcting opposite habits. 

(5) In this connection, grammatical analysis may be mentioned as a valu- 
able means of language training. It is necessary also to intelligent reading, 
because it is necessary to the clear apprehension of thought. 

2. Reproduction. — The importance of this has been emphasized. 

(1) All lessons supply material for such exercises. The primary pupil is 
to (a) write new words and sentences he lias been taught. (3) Make new 
sentences in which given words are to occur, such as new words, irregular 
verbs (go, went, etc. ) on which lessons have been given, (c) Copy maxims 
and proverbs which are worth remembering, (d) Give substance of what 
has been said in lessons on such proverbs and maxims, (e) Give Sen- 
tences expressing observed facts. 

(2) Silent /Heading. This should be practiced from the beginning. 
Give a reasonable time for class to read over silently a few sentences, a short 
narrative, etc. , and then have them close books and reproduce the thought. 
Capital exercise for all classes. Power of concentration cultivated, etc. 

(3) Stories. From pictures, and reproduction of stories told by teacher. 
Train children to " translate " pictures (orally) as well as they can, to tell 
the story as well as they can, and finally to write out the thought as well as 
they can. Advanced classes should give abstracts, narratives, paraphrases, 
etc. 

(4) Object lessons, (a) Perceptive ; (6) Reflective. 

(a) Perceptive. — Have object lessons on size, weight, form, etc., and com* 
mon objects, etc.; and make every such lesson a language lesson. Learning 
the facts about a cube — faces, corner, edges, etc., these must be properly ex- 

• An excellent and remarkably cheap series of " Classics for Children," is published 
by Ginn & Co., Boston. The whole set ought to be in every school and in every teacher's 
library. 



314 OUTLINE METHODS IN SPECIAL SUBJECTS. 

pressed. Lesson on table, e.g., the facts taught about top, frame, legs, uses, 
material, etc., must be properly expressed orally and in writing. If a les- 
son, e.g. , (by means of pieces of wood, stone, wool, etc. ) has been given to 
develop ideas of hardness and softness, the results should be expressed in 
such language as : " Because the stone does not yield easily to the touch, it 
is said to be hard, to have (or possess) the quality of hardness ;" similar 
sentences about the wood, &c. ; then expression of the generalization, (b) 
Reflective. — Lessons on truthfulness, justice, charity, industry, patriotism, 
etc Such lessons may farily be called (subjective) " object" lessons because 
they appeal directly to the child's experience. Wisdom and goodness em- 
bodied in maxims, proverbs, literary, gems, etc., to be the subject-matter of 
lessons. Such lessons can be made more interesting than external object 
lessons, and are of the highest value in education. For example, lessons 
on such selections as the following : 

" A soft answer turneth away wrath, etc." 
"Kind hearts are the gardens, 
Kind thoughts are the roots, 
Kind words are the blossoms, 
Kind deeds are the fruits." 
" All things that you do, do with your might, 
Things done by halves are never done right" 

" Dare to be true, nothing can need a lie." 

** Be good dear child, and let who will be clever, 
Do noble deeds, not dream them all day long, 
And so make life, death, and the vast forever, 
One grand sweet song." 
"Politeness, like great thoughts, comes from the heart" — 
" What is it to be a gentleman ? It is to be honest, to be gentle, to 
be generous, to be brave, to be wise, and, possessing all these qualities, 
to exercise them in the most graceful manner." 

"Define a gentleman you say? 

Well, yes, I think I can !" 
" He is as gentle as a woman, 

And as manly as a man." etc., etc 

(5) Memorizing. — Selections in Poetry and Prose. The Intelligent 
learning by heart of masterpieces of our literature is a most effective 
means of education; now greatly neg eced owing to re-action against 
mere rofe-learning. Should be in every school ; part of the work 0/ every 
cUut. 



OUTLINE METHODS IN SPECIAL SUBJECTS. 315 

(a) It trains the language faculty and the memory. 

(&) It stores the mind with good and beautiful thoughts which will tell 
powerfully on character, (c) It helps towards expressive reading, (d) It 
tends to develop a taste for good literature, one of the highest results the 
teacher can aim at. 

Something in this line should be done every day ; and every week 
part of a day should be specially devoted to readings, recitations, etc. 

3- Original Work. — The work being graded according to the stage of 
advancement of class, there should be : (1) Letters and Business Forms. 

(2) Narratives of personal experiences, descriptions of journeys, etc. 

(3) Biographical sketches and historical narratives. (4) Accounts of cur- 
rent events. (5) Criticisms of well studied selections. (6) Formal Essays. 

V. GRAMMAR. 

General Remarks. — Grammar is one of the thought-subjects of the 
school course. It has, perhaps, stronger claims than Arithmetic tj be 
called "the logic of the common schools." But beside its disciplinary 
value, it has great practical value. The science of the sentence (the unit 
of thought), its study helps to make the student a good reader, and a good 
speaker and writer. The teacher should be on his guard against the pre- 
vailing attempts to belittle the study of Grammar and Analysis. 

General Method. — Begin with the bare sentence, the two- word sentence, 
subject and predicate. Then, as Prof. Whitney says, " Having the nucleus 
of the sentence well understood, it is easy to go on and teach the other 
parts of speech and their offices ; the substitute for the noun (pronoun) 
the two kinds of qualifying words (adverb and adjective) and the two con- 
necting words (preposition and conjunction), and with such clearness as 
to be thoroughly comprehended. Dealing as we do with a known and 
familiar language, we can accomplish all this before we proceed to take up 
the several parts of speech themselves for a more detailed treatment." This 
is the true method, and the preliminary work indicated can be done in 
almost the lowest classes. The child begins to form judgments before he is 
two years old, and to express them (in propositions') before he is three. Be- 
fore a sentence can be properly read, it must be understood, i.e., there must 
be analysis of it, conscious or unconscious. Begin then with the sentence 
and let the process be one of analysis and synthesis. 

For public school work the following points should be kept in view : 

/. Classification of Words (Parts of Speech) — Word-functions: 

1. Something thought (and talked) about Subject or noun. 

2. Somewhat thought (and said) about this Predicate or verb. 



316 OUTLINE METHODS IN SPECIAL SUBJECTS. 

3. Noun -substitute Pronotro. 

4. The Subject-qualifier Adjective. 

5. The Predicate-modifier Adverb. 

6. The Noun-connector Preposition. 

7. The Sentence-connector Conjunction. 

8. The Emotion-word Interjection. 

In this is indicated the essential function of each part of speech, that 
which is necessary to its definition. The noun, e.g., may be object of a verb, 
or with a preposition may make a " modifier ; " but its distinguishing char- 
acter is to name the thing thought of. After abundant examples of the uses, 
the definitions should be given. The examples, in fact, lead up to accurate 
definition ; this is essential to accurate thought. 

Examples. — Plants grow. Flowers fade. Flowers bloom. 

(a) Leaves fall — flutter — rustle. Birds sing, fly, chirp. Boys play, run, 
jump, learn. Grass grows. Time flies, etc., etc. 

(b) Little birds sing, pretty flowers fade, all men die, good boys obey, 
dead leaves fall, etc. 

(c) Birds sing sweetly, boys run fast, roses fade quickly, etc. 

(d) The little child weeps bitterly, the sun shines brightly, etc. 

(<f) The yellow bird sings in the tree, the boy writes with a poor pen, etc. 

(/ ) The girl sings because she is happy, the sun rose and the clouds dis- 
persed, etc. 

By inductive teaching there will be no difficulty in getting even pupils in 
" Second Reader " to learn the " parts of speech." 

II. Keep prominently in view the fact that the use of a word in a sen- 
tence determines what part of speech it is. Walking is a healthful exercise, 
hand me my walking stick. There is rest for the weary, they rest from 
their labours, etc. 

III. Grammatical Equivalency — make this also prominent. For ex- 
ample : 

{a) An adjective, or an adverb, or an infinitive, or a prepositional phrase, 
or sentence (as quotation) or dependent proposition may fill the office of a 
noun ; e.g., That you have wronged me doth appear in this : From fame to 
infamy is a beaten track, etc., etc. 

(b) The office of adverb may be filled by a single word, or a preposi- 
tional phrase, or a noun, or an infinitive phrase, etc. 



OUTLINE METHODS IN SPECIAL SUBJECTS. $17 

(c ) The " adjective " may be a single word, or a noun in the possessive 
case, or a prepositional phrase, or a "participle phrase," or a dependent 
preposition, etc. 

Inflexions, Number, Gender, etc. — A good many inflexions will be 
learned incidentally, but there should be many lessons and copious exer- 
cises on the subject. 

Classification of the different kinds' of nouns, verbs, adjectives, etc.* 

There should be much analysis, but eschew " diagramatic " analysis as 
an invention of the deviceful empiric. This "diagramming" is supposed 
to help the pupil to apprehend at a glance the relations of words, clauses, 
etc., as if these relations had not to be apprehended before the disjecta 
membra could be placed in the right " compartments, " etc. There ought 
to be occasional exercises in written, but much practice in oral, analysis. 
Analysis trains to power of rapid apprehension, of expressive reading, and 
of clear and concise expression of thought 



Note. — In addition to books prescribed by the Department, and those already named, 
the teacher should possess the following books. But he should accept nothing on 
"Method" which he cannot justify on psychological principles: "Dewey's Psycho- 
logy" (Harper Brothers) ; Sully's " Psychology for Teachers ;" Preyer's " Mind of the 
Child" (D. Appleton & Co.); Compayr6's "Lectures on Pedagogy" (D. C. Heath); 
Payne's " Contributions to the Science of Education " (Harper & Brothers) 

BrooWs " Normal Methods of Teaching," Laurie's "Primary Education" (Jas. Thin, 
Edin.) ; Sinclair's " First Year at School ;" Hughes' " Securing and Retaining Attention 
and Mistakes in Teaching f " Kindergarten Guide " (Steiger & Co.) 

Compayre'3 " History of Pedagogy " (D. C. Heath) ; Mahaffy's " Old Greek Educa- 
tion' (Regan, Paul & Co.) ; Laurie's " Comenius" (Macmillan & Co.) 



tTbe Copp, Clarh Company, Xtmttefc, ^Toronto. 

School and College Text Books. 

Schmitz' History of Greece and Rome, combined.— By Leonhard 
Schmitz, LL.D. Authorized by Education Department. . . .75c. 

Selections from Byron and Addison.— Notes by H. I. Strang, 
B. A., and A. J. Moore, B. A., Goderich 50c. 

Selections from Longfellow.— With Life of Longfellow. Notes, 
etc., by H. I. Strang, B.A., and A. J. Moore, B.A. Paper.. 35c. 

Simpson's Latin Prose- — Part I. (Caesarian Prose). Special Cana- 
dian Edition 60c. 

Smith & MacMurchy's Elementary Arithmetic - - . ; 15c 

Key to . same , . . . . 75c. 

Smith & MacMurchy's Advanced Arithmetic 50c. 

Key to same $1.50 

Souvestre, Un Philosophe SOUS les ToitS— With Complete Vocabu- 
lary and Notes. By W. H. Fraser, B.A 60c. 

Tennyson Selections- — Annotated by A. W. Burt, B. A., Brockville 
Collegiate Institute 75c. 

Tablet Lessons for the Ontario Readers — 

With Roller $1.25 " 

Mounted, with edges cut flush 2.50 

" " bordered edge 2. 75 

Thompson's Seasons and Southey's Life of Nelson.— Notes by 

Strang, Moore and Armstrong 75c. 

Tweed's Grammar for Common Schools 25c. 

Universal School Maps.— 

Dominion of Canada, 4 ft. 3 x 2 ft. 4 $2.00 

World in Hemispheres, 4 ft. 5 x 3 ft. 10 3.50 

Europe, " " 3.50 

Asia, " " 3.50 

Africa, " " 3.50 

North America, " 3. 50 

South America, " " 3.50 

Western Hemisphere 3. 50 

Beautifully coloured— clearly defined. The prominent coast line, clear representa- 
tion of rivers and mountains, absence of overcrowding-, and the clear printing of names, 
etc., all combine to make the Universal Maps best suited for Schools, where clearness 
is so much desired. Ask for the Uuiveisal School Maps. 

Xenophon's Anabasis, Book III.— White's Grammar School Text 
and Vocabulary. With Explanatory Notes by John Henderson, 

MA 75c. 

(Notes only, in separate volume, 35c. ) 



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